


Emeralds for Easter

by magicgenetek



Series: Dead Men's Party [3]
Category: Kingdom Hearts, The Princess and the Frog (2009)
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Awkwardness, Cultural Differences, Disabled Character of Color, Easter, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Dinners, Family Drama, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, POV Character of Color, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Kingdom Hearts I, Slow Burn, Video Game Mechanics, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-03-31 18:25:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 21,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3988174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicgenetek/pseuds/magicgenetek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Facilier landed on his knees before a scene worthy of any horror movie:</p><p>Luxord, skin and hair glistening with water, held his leather coat over a damply translucent shirt next to a basket that oozed the scent of roast meat. And the biggest gossip in Facilier's family was talking to Luxord and drawing conclusions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day -169: Reporting In

“Water.”

Facilier's shadow brought him a glass of water from the bathroom tap. Facilier drank deeply, then poured the rest on his face. It didn't make him feel any less exhausted.

“Pills?”

Shadow dropped one in Facilier's hand and he swallowed in a single gulp.

“Good.” He tested his leg, then flinched – it felt like his knee was stuck between shin and thigh, unable to bend without lightning pain. “Any sign of Luxord?”

Shadow shook xer head.

“Damn.” Facilier said. “If Gator ate him, I'm going to rent a boat and dump his useless wooden ass in the Gulf. What kind of 'friend' eats my only reliable income?”

With that, he turned over and went back to sleep.


	2. Day -167: Paperwork

“Fertility charm, infertility charm, who wants to bet these two are married? Remedy for ant infestation? I'm not an exterminator. Our restaurant is cursed, please fix it – that address is too far to get to today.”

Facilier sighed and set down the commission slips on the table, then went back to rubbing his leg. “Shadow, check how much dried Queen Anne's Lace we have left. Gator, stop chattering your teeth. I can't think with you making that ruckus.”

The horned mask floated down and tried to catch Facilier's eye, toothy mouth curled in a pout. **You have to stop working for that man! He is a danger!**

“If you'd tell me what you saw Luxord doing with those mugger types instead of dancing around it like you're in a music hall, I might believe you,” Facilier said.

**I am the Bull's strong right hand!**

“You are this close to becoming firewood,” Facilier retorted. “I'm still not convinced you didn't eat him.”

Gator pouted. **If I had eaten him, I would have at least brought you his wallet.**

“I'm glad you at least began to think of the consequences,” Facilier said. He could hear the other Friends gossiping and laughing on the other side of the room; their clacking, pitchy mind-voices were muted enough by distance that they weren't so annoying. “But if Luxord's throwing around gems like candy, that means he's got even more wealth in his bank. You don't kill the goose with gold eggs until it's past egg laying age.”

**I** **know that! I am one hundred twenty seven years old and you are being a child!**

“If you have nothing useful to say, let me work. I've got to at least look like I'm not running a demon buffet to not get run out of town on a rail, and gems will only feed me so far. You own my soul, but I own this house.”

Machine quick laughter burst from the other side of the room. Facilier recognized the Murderess's cackle and the Brat's giggle among them. Gator growled and floated back to the congregation of floating masks to continue their demon talk.

He wouldn't be walking today, and doing the prep on the herbs for his charms would help keep him calm. His mother always took to making medicines when she was anxious, and he found the motions and smells of kitchen work a comfort even with her five years gone.


	3. Day -165: The Castle Inventory

Facilier staggered into his cousin's jewelry store and then sank into a seat, gasping for breath, clutching a canvas bag to his chest. The walk had felt longer than he had anticipated.

Was getting the money worth his leg doing an impression of being caught in an invisible bear trap?

(It was going to hurt anyway. He may as well eat.)

“You look like you've been run over,” Melvin teased from the counter.

A burst of pain sparked behind his knee. Facilier put a hand on his face so his cousin wouldn't see him snarl. “I do not look like a car ran me over. That's usually more bloody.”

“How literal!”

The shop was empty except for them and a couple of Melvin's employees; it was late enough that it would be closing in a few minutes. That was, Facilier suspected, why Melvin came out from behind the counter and sat next to him.

“Did you come to sell more of those jewels?”

“Yeah,” Facilier said. He took a small case out of his bag and opened it to reveal a handful of shining moonstones. “Among other things.”

Melvin took the case and picked up one of the moonstones. “They've already been cut to enhance their shine. See how translucent they are? That blue tint? That's a good sign.”

“You mean, it's worth a lot?” Facilier asked.

Melvin sighed. “Yes, that means it's worth a great deal. I'll get you your money.”

“Good.” He'd buy food on the way home. Maybe get some ice to put on his leg.

Melvin took the gems, got cash from the register, came back. “Here.”

Facilier tucked them into his bag, then pulled out a large box. “Take this.”

“What's - “ He opened it. “Oranges?”

“I managed to get my hands on some before their season. Your wife's pregnant, isn't she? Fruit'll be good for the baby.”

“You remembered that?” Melvin had stars in his eyes as he clasped Facilier's hands. “Thank you, Lazare! Annette will love these! And Boni's been looking forward to fruit season!”

Facilier flushed; hearing his first name out loud was always strange. He hadn't had anyone call him that regularly since his mother had died – only relatives, on and off, when he'd done something that didn't make their hackles raise. ( Which didn't even touch the irony of him, of all people, being named after Lazarus. )

“You're welcome, Melvin.”

“Tell you what. I'm closing up shop – I'll drive you home if you want. Or you can come back and visit? You haven't seen Boni in months.”

“I've been informed I am a bad influence on seven year old nieces,” Facilier said dryly. “But I'll take you up on the ride.”

“Good,” Melvin says. A grin split his face. “You know, Palm Sunday is this weekend. Everyone's welcome...”

Facilier grimaced. “Not me. The Shadow Man at your cute little parish? They'd chase me out with torches and pitchforks.”

“There'll be free food afterwards,” Melvin said.


	4. Day -164: Inventory Slips

Was free food worth digging out a pastel green shirt, slicking down his wild hair with enough hair gel to kill a man, and sitting through an hour of droning (albeit with some good music)?

Facilier took another bite of lemon pie. Yes, yes it was worth it.

“Uncle Lazare, you're going to come and visit us for Easter, aren't you?”

Mostly.


	5. Day -160: Nine Days Until Fourth Quarter Finishes

No footsteps on the roof.

No knocking on his door.

Facilier stared at the ceiling, fingers digging into an orange skin. It had been nine days since he'd seen Luxord last. Where was he?


	6. Day -158: Office Meeting

The mighty meeting room Where Nothing Gathers was white and tall. Chairs towered feet upon feet in the air and the ceiling spiraled too high to see.

On the tallest chair sat their leader: a dark man with silver hair and sharp, youthful features. “Kingdom Hearts,” he intoned in a voice as deep and dark as the night sky, “nears completion ever more. Your efforts are not in vain...”

Luxord was replaying old poker games in his head. Xemnas was very good at certain things, like creating magic leather coats and elaborate plans, but concise speeches about the state of their Organization was not one of them.

He was not alone in zoning out. Demyx's little blond mullet was bouncing up and down as he listened to some internal song, his fingers rippling over the memory of a sitar. Zexion's long, long bangs couldn't hide that his eyes were closed underneath. Xigbar's one good eye was darting, his grin twitching and pulling at his facial scars as he watched the others suffer through the speech, while Xaldin kept on mugging at everyone to pay more attention to their boss.

But Saix's eyes were focused on their leader; the X scar between his eyes was not moving. He was subsumed.

Typical reactions. They had done this during Xemnas's speeches for the past five years, and would keep on doing it for the next five, Luxord thought. Time did not so much move in this room as become one stretched out moment, like some tormented taffy. His brain felt like taffy.

“...and so we shall be reborn,” Xemnas finished. “Now, Luxord. The state of our finances?”

Finally!

Luxord pulled his notes out of his pocket and cleared his throat. “Thank you, Superior.

“I'd like to open by congratulating everyone. It appears that mission efficiency has increased by ten percent since our last quarter; not only have we have filled two more floors of Castle Oblivion with heartless, but we have also increased profits from our salvage operations on fallen worlds. We have enough paid in advance that, unless we are to face dire straights, Twilight Town will supply our world with food and supplies to supplement our own for the next year without fail.

“This also means that we will have a five-item increase on the amount of items we can take on missions. However, please remember that selling salvage items for personal profit is against the Organization's rules. Every item collected by the Organization is placed within our care for good reason; we cannot enter a game to regain our hearts if we don't have enough resources to ante up.

“I would also like to remind everyone that even though we have created safe zones within Castle Oblivion, it will turn everything you bring into it into cards. This is irreversible. Remember to empty your pockets and packs before you report for duty. My Gamblers who run inventory say that they are almost out of healing items. You have already been supplied with cards that become healing items; please do not try to sneak in potions or ethers. They will only become more cards.”

Demyx groaned and raised his hand. “Yes?” Luxord asked.

“Can we get something easier to use than the card system? It's such a pain to deal with!”

“All you need to use the cards are simple math and a little planning,” Zexion said, not bothering to open his eyes.

“I'm not good at either of those!” Demyx said.

Saix's head rotated like an owl's; Demyx flinched away from his glare. “Then perhaps you should practice them,” Saix said.

“Yes, Saix!”

Five years, and this was the same as well. Saix, the ever strict manager. Demyx, always hiding his disdain for work under an umbrella of incompetence. Zexion, scornful of those unable to reach the heights of his intelligence.

And Luxord stuck in the middle. “And one last thing before we move on! If one of the worlds you're assigned to looks like it's about to fall into darkness, please let me know! We get a good chunk of our money from embezzling government bank accounts before a world falls into darkness. Not catching a world before it goes means another six months before we can repair the furnaces in everyone's department buildings. I'd like to thank Xaldin in particular for his promptness when Summer Glacier fell, and I'd like request that he get a bonus for it.”

“Thank you,” Saix said. Xaldin preened his long, black braids. “Speaking of worlds falling into darkness – Xigbar, what worlds are we focusing on this month?”

Luxord half listened as the meeting went on. He knew most of this already. Keeping the books for the Organization meant knowing who was on what worlds, doing what things, and figuring out how much to pay them for it.

If he had a heart to feel with, he'd say these meetings bored him silly. But he hadn't one, so he didn't say that. Instead he waited.

The meeting ended an interminable time later. He portaled himself outside of Where Nothing Met and walked through white corridors to the great windowed room overlooking the dark city below; he collapsed into one of the off-white sofas, mentally spent.

A shadow fell on him.“Good work today, X,” Saix said. “Efficient as always.”

“Thank you, VII,” Luxord said. The Chariot, he thought. The card of control over mind, heart and armies. Appropriate number for Saix. “Has the Superior approved my grant?”

“He has. You'll have funding and time allotted for heartless hunting on Bayou Boulevard for the next six months. The Superior feels that the successes of your experimenting and seeking outweigh the time wasted in your failures.”

“Thank you,” Luxord said, and even if he did have a heart, he wouldn't have meant it; he still tried to sound like he did.

“However, you can't go to Bayou Boulevard this week. We've found a Darkside-level boss-class heartless in the remains of the Pride Lands, and everyone will be needed to catch it. Be prepared.”

Luxord sighed. “Of course, VII.” Dammit. He wanted to go. That amphibious heartless had plenty of places to run and hide with another week, and his contract with Facilier stated he had to pay if he didn't show up, and he wanted to see Facilier.

No. That wasn't true. He could not want anything with no heart. But seeing Facilier was pleasant. A good break from his work. Intelligent conversation.

Saix left. There was nothing more to speak of. Luxord stayed on the couch a few minutes longer, then stood to walk to his quarters. He needed to talk to Zexion about the amphibian heartless and to send out more of his Gamblers to increase inventory at Castle Oblivion and a dozen other things.

“But if you want to play the game,” he told himself, “you must afford to ante up. Do your work and stay in the game.”


	7. Day -157: Ow My Face

“Fresh oranges for sale!”

They were good fruits, but Facilier wouldn't be able to eat them all before they went bad.

“I'll take some.”

“Bless you, ma'am. Have a good day.”

If he was going to show up at the church on Easter, he may as well make sure he was on good terms – or, at least, neutral terms – with the parishioners.

“Can I have some, mister?”

“Yeah, kiddo. This one's on the house.”

He'd feel better about it if Melvin and his wife weren't giving him smug looks and murmuring to each other.

“Wherever did he get that many oranges?”

“But he's selling them to us. Went right to the church for it. I think he might be ready to turn over a new leaf.”

“You always think that about him, Melvin.”

Bless your sweet heart, Facilier thought, because there's nothing sweet in your head, Annette.

Boni took an orange from the table and plopped down next to Facilier with seven year old-like bluntness. “Did you bring everyone oranges because you're coming on Easter?”

“Yes, Boni,” Facilier said. “Can't have everyone saying I'm a bad influence on you when you're the reason I'm going.” He opened up his own orange.

“Good.” She bit into the orange like an apple. “You're not creepy when you're not in your shop.”

“Thank you, I guess.”

“You're welcome.” Chomp. “Bring your deck of cards! You do the best card tricks.”

Facilier could feel Melvin and Annette's gazes burning on the nape of his neck. “I'll try not to forget.”


	8. DAY -151: Preparation

The labs were as white as the rest of the castle, most of the time. Sometimes they were black with ash or gleamed red and purple with viscera, but the head scientists were very particular about keeping the labs clean.

Zexion in particular was particular about this. His lab had papers pinned to the wall in spiraling geometric formations. His hands flew over flawless white keyboards as he logged information from the latest experiments; his labcoat was starched-stiff, bleach white and flapped with every keystroke.

He made Luxord think of ammonites: stiffened, spiraling shells around a soft core he could no longer see.

Luxord knocked on the opened door six times (six for the Lovers, the terrible choice, No. VI). “Do you have a report yet?” he asked.

Zexion didn't move from the computer screen; the light bleached his purple hair gray. “Yes. Took you long enough to get here.”

“Idle hands are Exdeath's workshop,” Luxord replied. “I had to get Castle Oblivion restocked, prepare this quarter's ledgers and help Demyx scry for Shadow Stalkers. I am to hunt tomorrow.”

“If Demyx would do his missions properly, we wouldn't have to make sure the Shadow Stalkers didn't inhabit our ships,” Zexion grumbled “If we made him take out the garbage, we'd have racoons infesting the castle within a week.”

“And yet we keep him, and complain each day that he's as ill behaved as a cat.”

“He's the only thing keeping Maleficent from attacking our world. You know it as well as I do.”

“Ah, but that's not the _only_ reason,” Luxord said, and Zexion huffed. Luxord peeked over Zexion's shoulder at the screen. “Your findings?”

Zexion pulled up the blurry cell phone video of the unknown heartless disemboweling a man. “Your specimen on Bayou Boulevard is most likely a naturally born heartless, as you suspected. There's no emblem of Hollow Bastion, nor has it the markings of the Realm of Darkness. The sheer size of it suggests at least a century of growth. I suspect the reptilian nature is mimicking some natural beast on that world.”

“Of course.”

“However, given how quickly it avoided your card cage and how it was able to evade you, I'd say it's more intelligent than a dog. It's at least as smart as Demyx.”

Luxord nodded. “Which means the danger is greater.”

“Perhaps. It shows no signs of magic, so staying out of it's range would be ideal. Bring a better pack of cards and get better bait next time.”

“I convinced a man murder his friend. The blood had yet to dry. How superior can the bait _get_ than that?”

Zexion finally turned. His eyes may have been dull, but his glare was not. “That's your job to find out. I'm not your babysitter, Luxord. Besides, if this world has enough darkness to support a heartless of that size, I'm sure you'll be able to find something.”

He was right, of course. Luxord knew where to find superior bait. There was at least one person there whose heart was so strong with both self-serving darkness and selfless light that heartless should be drawn to him like moths to fire.

But using Facilier to catch one heartless would be casting pearls before swine.

“I understand,” Luxord said, and bowed his head to Zexion. “I shall seek out new possibilities and hope the cards fall in my favor.”

“Good.” Zexion turned to his computer. After a moment, he turned back to Luxord, who had not left. “What.”

Luxord smiled sheepishly. “Are Vexen and Lexeaus in their labs? And is Xaldin with them again?”

“No and yes. The three of them are off at the shell of Corona's Sun to investigate the new emblem heartless emerging there. If they were here, they would be too busy for you to drop in unannounced. Go do your job and schedule a time with them; Vexen's not as patient as I am.”

You're not patient at all, Luxord did not say, and he's become even worse. But perhaps I can catch Xaldin when he returns; he owes me for the bonus. He bowed his head again. “Then I have one more question, and I'll be on my way.”

“Spit it out.”

“My next visit to Bayou Boulevard will be on the festival of Easter. What should I expect to be different in a celebration on a quarantine world?”

Zexion sighed and went back to his computer. “Not much. There could be fireworks, feasting, maybe a parade. Candy phoenixes and painted eggs will be there like they were at home. No Easter chase, though, because the Holiday creatures are forbidden from the Quarantine Zone. Throw something pastel over your coat if you're worried about sticking out.”

“Of course. Thank you.” Feasting. He thought so, but it was good to have confirmation. If mere oranges could provoke a reaction from Facilier's heart so strong that Luxord could feel it, then an entire feast -

“Remember it's the day of April Foolery tomorrow too. Demyx might put buckets of water on everyone's doors again.”

“What, five years in a row?”

“He's three hundred years old. I don't think he gets bored that easily.”

“You're one to talk,” Luxord said, and then Zexion shooed him away.

There was no point in celebrating holidays with those who had no hearts, Luxord thought as he left. No one here cared for him. The stimulation of a strong heart and strong mind in preparation for recruitment would be a superior use of his time.

Now he just had to wait for Vexen and Xaldin, the cooks of the Organization, to return.


	9. Day -150: April 1, 1923

Facilier woke up at the crack of dawn to finish washing what passed for his Sunday best. Pale yellow shirt, his only pair of good pants, the best socks he had, all scrubbed last night and almost dry now. Shine up his good shoes until he could see his face in them, then shine his cane so there wasn't a speck of dirt on it. Get enough gel in his hair to keep it flat against his head instead of sticking upright like weeds in the wind.

Get Shadow's help making oatmeal. Feed the masks a little chicken jerky to keep them from grumbling. Pour an offering of liquor out at his altar and pray to Baron Samedi for – Facilier didn't' know what. Strength. Tolerance. To not get into a fistfight with a cousin this time.

When he got dressed, he didn't recognize the man in the mirror. Lazare Facilier was the Shadowman who even the darkness feared. The man in the mirror looked like Adelaide Facilier's hardworking son.

He preferred seeing dead people when they were ghosts, not strangers in his reflection.

Taking a drink himself to steady his nerves was a terrible idea, but Facilier did it anyway. It burned his throat and made him stop thinking about the infinite ways seeing his family today could go wrong. Why not come to church more and give up your pagan ways? Why don't you talk to Grandma anymore? What would your mother think of you being a swindler and a con artist?

His knee was already aching by the time Melvin knocked on the door. “Enter,” Facilier said, and sent Shadow to open it with a gesture.

Melvin looked like Alice's rabbit in his tweedy suit, while Annette's swollen belly and patterned dress made her look like a walking easter egg. Boni's puffy green dress was only out-puffed by her two hair buns. It should've been funny. It should not have made his veins feel full of ice.

Facilier managed a smile. “You all look dressed up. Pulling out all the stops for this Easter, are we?”

“It's a time to celebrate!” Melvin said. Annette smiled, her lips pulled thin and judgmental. “Especially since you've agreed to come with us.”

Facilier nodded. He could do this. Steady. Stay steady. “How lovely.” He stood and then bowed with a flourish to Boni, who squealed and cheered. “And you look like a proper princess.”

“Thanks, Uncle Lazare!” Boni bounced in her nice shoes and ran up to hug him. She was a warm anchor in a cold room. “This is going to be so fun and we'll find all the Easter eggs and- “ She rambled on as she tugged him toward the door. Facilier stumbled afterwards, his smile growing more genuine. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

_Thump._

Everyone froze at the sound of footsteps above.

_Thump thump thump._

Annette was the first to look up. “That's your house up above this place, isn't it?”

“It is,” Facilier said.

Her mouth made a small o. “Your bedroom?”

“And kitchen, yes.”

Their eyes met from across the room. In Annette's gaze was curiosity and a challenge.

She waddled as quickly as he limped; they slammed into the doorway to the stairs at the same time, and her baby bump left them wedged, unable to move forward and unwilling to fall back.

“Get out of the way, Annette!”

“You haven't introduced us to anyone you find worth letting into your bedroom!”

“You're not worth introducing anyone to!” Facilier snapped.

Boni ducked under their trapped waists. “Sorry, Mommy,” she chirped, and ran up the stairs.

“Sorry, dear,” Melvin said, and followed.

“Both of you get back here!” Facilier and Annette shrieked. Together, they wedged themselves up the staircase as they heard gasps and at least one squeak that Facilier knew came from a blonde fool.

They burst out of the staircase like a cork out of a bottle; Annette grabbed the doorframe and held herself upright while Facilier landed on his knees before a scene worthy of any horror movie:

Luxord, skin and hair glistening with water, held his leather coat over a damply translucent shirt next to a basket that oozed the scent of roast meat. And the biggest gossip in Facilier's family was talking to Luxord and _drawing conclusions_.

“And since I thought Facilier didn't seem to have previous engagements today, I thought we could save money by bringing some food. I'm not particularly well versed with how Easter is celebrated in New Orleans,” Luxord said. “I hadn't realized he had family over.”

“We're taking him out for Easter. ” Boni said. “Don't you know Easter's important?”

“Of course it is,” Luxord said, and Boni grabbed his still gloved hand and dragged him over to Annette with the boldness of a child. Luxord doubled over and shuffled after her with the deliberate delicacy of someone who knew children, giving her enough leeway to feel like she was leading him while making sure she wasn't taking his full weight.

“Boni, please don't drag my customer around,” Facilier said hoarsely.

“It's fine,” Luxord said with a careful smile. “I had a sister.”

Had, Facilier thought, and tucked that thought away to examine later. “Luxord, I know we're supposed to go out every week, but perhaps now is not a good time.”

“Go out every week,” Annette repeated, and Facilier saw gears turning in her head and in Melvin's.

Oh no. “No, no, no, it's not like it sounds like!” Facilier protested.

“He takes you out to lunch every week?” Melvin asked.

Luxord nodded. “We visit all kinds of sights in the city – I'm visiting from out of the country and I want to see everything.”

“Oh, I'm sure Facilier has shown you a great deal of things,” Annette said. “Both large and small.”

“He has,” Luxord said, the implication flying well over his head, and Melvin tried very hard not to make a face behind him.

“I hate you all,” Facilier muttered.

“Even me?” Boni asked.

“Not you, but your parents are going to send me to an even earlier grave than I expected,” Facilier said.

“So, would you be willing to tell us what he's exposed you to?” Annette asked.

“We've visited several churches and a historical house,” Luxord said.

Melvin stopped his silent laughter. “You got him to go to church?”

“It's not like I shrivel up when I walk on holy ground,” Facilier muttered.

Annette looked like she'd been struck by lightning. She stepped over to the basket he'd brought with him and opened one flap. “You took him to church and you brought him food. A lot of food.”

“Everyone's busy with the festivities so I thought it would be silly to go out to a restaurant.”

“You made this?”

“My friends,” Luxord said. “They owed me a favor.”

She closed the basket delicately. “So. Where were you that you're all wet?”

Why was he, anyway? He hadn't – snuck into Facilier's shower, had he? Why would he even do that why was he thinking that - oh no he didn't need those images of golden skin and whitegold hair nope.

“Well, it's also the day of April Foolery, isn't it? Another friend of mine set up pranks and I ended up getting soaked with water,” Luxord said. “He's never been serious a day in his life. I feared the food would cool if I tarried, so I made haste here. I didn't want to drip on the floor, so I was removing my coat to dry it when you all appeared.” He patted the black leather coat he had clutched over his chest.

“What were you thinking? I can deal with cold food, and it's better than having a scene like this,” Facilier said. He used his cane to lever himself to his feet and then waved it accusingly at Luxord. “Where have you been for the last three weeks?! We had a deal!”

Luxord bowed at 45 degrees, head down, face serious. Facilier wasn't sure if his eyes or Annette's eyes bugged out more. “My apologies. My work grew busy and I was unable to leave until now. The food was, in part, payment for having kept you waiting.”

“Get up, you idiot,” Facilier said, and pushed at Luxord's shoulder to get him to stop bowing like that, as if he owed Facilier something and wasn't just some customer, as if he cared.

Luxord's shoulders were wide and firm with muscle; the fact that Luxord straightened up had nothing to do with Facilier's shoving and everything to do with Luxord relenting. This close, close enough to feel the cool radiating off bare skin, Facilier could see feathery scars on Luxord's forearms and the greenish remains of old bruises. How old were they? Three weeks old? They were on the top of his arms: defensive wounds. He might have been trying to block blows.

That explained why Luxord had disappeared for near three weeks. He'd drawn the muggers away three weeks ago and – anyone would need time alone after a brawl like that. Even if Luxord seemed to be the winner of the unseen fight.

(But why would that scare his Friends so much that they'd warn him off Luxord?)

“Were you fighting?” he asked.

Luxord's gloved hand curled slow and brushed against Facilier's sleeve; a sliver of flesh above his glove traced Facilier's palm. “Here and there. No injuries worth worrying about.” His eyes lit up. “Were you worried?”

“Dead men can't pay for dinner,” Facilier said softer than he intended.

“Which would make our contract moot,” Luxord said.

Facilier sighed. “Yes.” He looked to Annette and Melvin, who were having the kind of wordless conversation he knew couples had, then to Boni, who just looked confused.

“What the heck is going on, Uncle Lazare.”

“I agree,” Facilier said. “Look, he's a foreigner who doesn't know a thing about the States but wants to do touristy things, so I show him around town and he pays me. He likes my style enough that he's got me booked once a week, but he off and missed two appointments. I can't take time off if he doesn't show up to pay me.”

“He should go to Easter mass with us,” Boni said. “That's what I think. Then he can pay you and you still go to church and it's very important to go to church, Mr. Luxord! Or you might die!!”

Luxord nodded gravely. “I see. It's very important! However, this is a family event, and I don't wish to impose-”

“You can come,” Annette said quickly. “You should definitely come, yes, it's a great time for new people to come to church!”

She was plotting something. Her and Melvin. Why did Boni have to be the child of two of the biggest gossips in the family?

“I don't want to mix business with family matters,” Facilier said.

“It's no trouble to us!” Melvin said. He and Annette were a pair of shining smiles. “My car will fit one more just fine!”

Luxord nodded. “Do we have time to eat, or should I put my food in the icebox?”

“We were going out to eat anyway,” Melvin said.

“Y'all owe me for poaching my food,” Facilier muttered. “Fine. What do you have?”

He had a lot. Two sets of the biggest chicken wings Facilier had ever seen, one in a 'honey sauce' and one in 'Belias style hot sauce'; an angel food cake that had been cut apart and put back together to look like a lamb, if lambs were also the victims of an icing based Doctor Frankenstein; shrimp dumplings wrapped in translucent dough; steamed and mysterious long stemmed vegetables with oyster sauce; a tureen of thick rice porridge with wisps of egg cooked in; and -

“What is it?” Boni asked.

“It's an Easter phoenix!” Luxord said. He had changed into a lavender shirt with pink flowers embroidered around the buttons that he'd pulled from the picnic basket.

“But how'd you get all that chocolate to stay in one place?” Facilier asked. “It's almost as big as my arm.”

“I'm told it's a trade secret,” Luxord said. “It's to be shared with everyone who wasn't able to catch the Easter Bunny as a consolation prize – but since the Rabbit isn't chased here, we can simply eat it instead.”

“Why are we chasing the Easter Bunny?” Boni asked.

“Because the eggs are full of prizes. You get one every time you catch the Bunny.”

“Is this the rabbit that lays eggs?” Facilier asked.

“Rabbits don't lay eggs!” Luxord retorted, grinning.

Annette looked up from table setting.“You're from where again?”

“Far away. I don't know the name of it in English.” Luxord broke off a tip of the phoenix's wing and gave it to Boni, who devoured it in a single gulp. “It's a tricky language and I'm still learning the proper names of places.”

“You're very good,” Melvin said, and used his napkin to wipe chocolate off of Boni's face.

Annette placed a fork and plate in front of Luxord, who picked it up and gave the tines a distrusting look. “So, tell us about where you came from.”

“I've moved several times. Where I was born or where I live now?” He flipped his fork around and gingerly poked a dumpling with it.

“Both.”

“Radiant Garden was verdant,” Luxord began, and tried to stab a dumpling with his fork. It slid off the side. “Every bit of land in the city not used as road or house had flowers planted in it. There were even flowers on the flag.”

 _Tink_ went his fork on the plate.

“What kind of flowers?” Annette asked.

Luxord's face twitched; his unnaturally smooth face wrinkled in discontent as he again failed to stab the dumpling. “Lotuses and chrysanthemums were favored, but there were more varieties than I could name. My botanical knowledge is slim.” _Tink._ “Facilier, I think your utensil is broken.”

Facilier had his hand pressed hard against his mouth so he wouldn't laugh at Luxord. “You don't actually know how to use a fork, do you?”

Luxord's face was sheer and smooth as as a sheet, and then he crumpled with deliberate force, face in his hands. “Oh, I'm a sham!”

A laugh wheezed out of Facilier. Boni patted Luxord's back. “There there. My cousin can't use a fork either.”

“Thank you.”

“He's two.”

Luxord's voice shifted from self deprecating to deliberately dramatic. “Years of diplomatic training: wasted!”

“There there you big baby,” Boni said, ever tactful.

“Do you need different utensils?” Annette asked.

Luxord sat up as if nothing had happened, smiling guilelessly. “I brought my own utensils. Please excuse me while I get them.”

He went to the bathroom and started poking through the pockets of his drying leather coat.

“Do you think he keeps everything in that coat?” Melvin asked.

Facilier nodded. “It's got bigger pockets than you'd expect.”

“What kind of spoons do you think he's got?” Annette asked.

“He's going to show us in a minute,” Facilier said. “Keep your shirt on.”

Luxord returned with a long, thin black box and opened it carefully at the table. He took out a set of polished wooden chopsticks with a gold-green laquer and carvings of thick-petaled flowers and used them to pluck a shrimp dumpling with a grace that didn't match his thick fingers.

 _Oh,_ Facilier thought. Not a white boy at all. That was why Luxord hadn't told anyone where he was from – it was illegal for anyone from Asia to come live in the States these days. Luxord was rich enough to sneak past the border -

But why? He said he was a tourist. But surely he wouldn't cross an ocean and risk getting deported just to sightsee, would he?

What would bring him to sneak into the States illegally with enough gemstones to buy a small nation?

“Let's eat,” Luxord said, and clapped his hands together. “Thank goodness I can eat this food with you.”

Annette smiled, and she and her family clapped their hands. “Bless us Oh Lord, and these thy gifts, which we are about to receive, from thy bounty, through Christ, Our Lord. Amen.”

Facilier's hand darted out and grabbed the biggest spicy chicken wing, barely beating out Melvin. The battle for brunch had begun.


	10. Henry Ford's Lake of Fire

Luxord wiggled his hand and rubbed his knuckles against his purple shirt as they walked out of Facilier's store. “Did you need to rap my knuckles so hard?”

“Muscle memory. I'm sorry,” Facilier mumbled. “You were about to take the last dumpling and I thought you were Annette.”

“Mr. Luxord, don't you know that you have to eat quickly?” Boni said.

“If I'd behaved like that during family dinner, my father would have grounded me,” Luxord said. “I'd be left to languish in my room for some time.”

“What kind of family sits around the table and eats calmly? Don't y'all get hungry?” Facilier asked.

“We're polite,” Luxord said firmly. “And it's bad luck to let your utensils touch during a meal.”

“So that's why you kept on going bug-eyed. What's wrong with it?”

Luxord shook his head and flicked his fingers into a triangle. “That's how bones are taken from the ashes to an urn after cremation.”

Facilier, Melvin, Annette and Boni winced as one. “You could've said something,” Facilier said.

“I didn't want to break the good mood,” Luxord said, hands shooing the idea away.

Melvin unlocked his car and gestured to the others. “We better hurry if we don't want to stand during mass.”

Facilier glared at the car. He could almost feel the car glaring back; the entire thing radiated hatred and woe, from the narrowed front lights and the bloody red interior cushions to the sickeningly yellow custom paint job. Just coming near it made his hackles rise.

“Uncle Lazare sits next to me in the back!” Boni said, and dove into the back seat. Facilier took a deep breath to steady his nerves. and took the middle.

Luxord sat next to him primly and patted the seats. “Where are the seat belts?”

“What's a seat belt?” Melvin asked.

Luxord paled. “It...prevents you from flying out of your seat in a crash...”

“I've never crashed, so you should be fine!” Melvin said, and started the engine.

“Best brace yourself,” Facilier advised Luxord, and then there was a sickening rumble as the car roared to life.

Whatever seat belts were, not having them seemed to have thrown Luxord's calm; it was almost comforting having someone as uncomfortable as Facilier was in the car with him. When they went over a pothole, he could see Luxord's mouth twitch into a grimace – the closest to fear he'd seen on his face. Facilier wasn't the only one who knew this car was evil.

The car swerved hard and Facilier smacked into Luxord from the momentum of the turn, grabbed his wrist to try and support himself. His bare wrist was cool and firm to the touch – like a corpse's, Faciler thought, and then squeezed his eyes shut to try and banish sudden images of car created injuries from his mind.

Boni kicked the seat in front of her. “Mom, tell Daddy to drive nicer! Uncle Lazare looks like he's gonna be sick.”

“No I don't,” Facilier mumbled.

“Please use a turn signal!” Luxord called.

“I don't have one of those either,” Melvin said. “I'm doing the best I can in this traffic!”

Luxord shuddered and pressed himself against the car seat as if he could melt into it. “This is deeply unsafe.”

Facilier nodded. “Henry Ford is Satan's servant on earth, and he's made Detroit into his own personal lake of flames.”

“Language!” Annette snapped.

“No arguing on Easter,” Boni said. She kicked Annette's seat again, then shoved Facilier. “Be nice to each other!”

Facilier slouched back in his seat. “I'm being attacked from all sides.”

“Maybe we can go to a movie after church and not argue,” Boni said. “We went to see A Princess of Mars and the aliens were cool but the hero was a jerk.”

“Do you like aliens?” Luxord asked, perking up.

“I want to go to space,” Boni said. “The aliens had four arms and there was a princess.”

“I've got some pulp novels you can read to her,” Facilier said, grinning.

Annette hmphed. “There aren't any planets that remain visible in the sky for more than a few years for a reason. The stars move for a reason.”

“Don't crush her dreams,” Luxord said. “Aliens on other worlds could be real.”

“What, like the talking pumpkin?” Facilier teased.

“Jack the Pumpkin King is not a pumpkin,” Luxord replied, mock-offended. “I can draw a picture and prove it.”

“Do it,” Boni said. “I want to see an alien!”

Luxord fished a pencil and a small pad of paper out of one of his many pants pockets and made a rough sketch, then passed it to Boni and Facilier.

“It's a skeleton in a tux,” Facilier said flatly.

“No, he just looks like a skeleton,” Luxord said. “It's camouflage because he only leaves Halloweentown on Halloween.”

Boni gave the notepad back to Luxord. “Draw more aliens. And draw me as a princess.”

“Yes, your highness,” Luxord chirped, and started scribbling.

Boni crawled onto Facilier's lap to watch. Facilier wrapped his arm around her in case Melvin did do something stupid while driving as she asked, “Is that a teddy bear with a balloon tied around it?”

Luxord didn't break stride. “No, the moogle puff is full of lighter than air gas and helps them stay afloat; their wings are only good for steering. It was hard to jump on their home planet, so they grew the puffs to help them jump and fall safely.”

“Why is she stirring a pot?”

“She's melting metal to make you a crown, princess.”

“Why is Mickey Mouse next to the moogle?”

Luxord's neat line skittered into a zigzag. “You mean – he's known here?”

“Yes! I love his cartoons. He likes saving the princesses.”

“Even here, Disnet has fingers,” Luxord muttered, and drew a little key and devil horns on the mouse.

“No, Mr. Luxord, it's Dis-NEY,” Boni said.

Luxord wrote DISNET on the drawing. “See? That's how it's spelled.”

“No, that's a Y, not a T!”

“I agree with Boni,” Facilier said. “She's got better spelling than you do. I've seen both of you write and you're a worse speller than I am.”

Luxord looked at Facilier as if he were a cat that Facilier had just dumped into a full bathtub.

“Please don't look like that,” Facilier said; he felt his heart catch in his throat. Don't upset Luxord, he thought, then corrected himself – don't upset the customer. Because Luxord was his employer, his customer, and Facilier was the employee, and why was Luxord coming with him to family mass and sitting next to him in his cousin's car like some satisfied tabby?

“You're cruel but fair,” Luxord said, his pout sliding into a neat, porcelain frown, then shifting to a clown's careful grimace. “I believe that Boni's the smartest one of the three of us in the backseat. Thank you for your corrections, your highness.” He offered his hand to Boni and bowed his head.

Good save, Facilier thought at Boni shook Luxord's hand. He'd defused the sudden tension and played away that wounded moment when his mask had fractured – no neatly plated emotions set upon his face but something raw.

Why that of all things, though?

Facilier stayed quiet the rest of the trip, listening to Luxord and Boni chatter about aliens and the Easter Bunny. Luxord spun fanciful tales of horned fairies who turned into dragons, soldiers made of smog, and a village of birds that painted eggs for the Easter Bunny; he answered every one of Boni's questions as seriously as if they were two adults talking shop and not a grown man telling a seven year old that no, the birds didn't like roses because one time one of them was stabbed by a thorn and got blood on her nice clean shirt.

He hardly recognized the church's parking lot until they had pulled into it. “We're here already?”

“We are!” Melvin chirped. “You must be excited today – you usually act like riding in the car is worse than getting your teeth pulled.”

Facilier scowled and resisted the urge to whack Melvin's seat with his cane. Instead, he followed Boni out of the car. She ran to walk between her parents, and Facilier fell behind to walk with Luxord.

“You have a lot of good stories.”

“Thank you,” Luxord said, beaming. “So, do you believe in aliens and other worlds?”

Facilier blinked. “Where did that come from?”

“I'm curious! Besides, you're an intelligent man – I'm sure that your studies have given you some insight into this,” Luxord said.

Facilier laughed. “Flattery that transparent won't work on me. I'm just a humble sinner who's lucky God hasn't smitten him down yet. 'sides, even if there's other worlds, other life out there, we're never going to know.”

“Why not?”

Facilier stopped; Big Daddy and his daughter Lottie were entering the church, happily talking with Tiana and her mother. His knee began to throb. Somehow, it hadn't been painful in the car, but seeing that man – acting like he had done nothing wrong, as if being rich and white meant he could walk into any place he wanted no matter what he'd done -

He laughed again, a bitter bark. “Cause any alien that's intelligent enough to check out other worlds'd be smart enough not to come here.”

There was a flash of the sad kitten look in Luxord's eyes before he went blank and solid once more. “Fear not. Stupidity is universal. No doubt there's some foolish alien willing to risk it for that young woman's beignets.”

“I pity them,” Facilier said, but the ache in his knee lessened some. He tapped his cane against Luxord's boot. “Come on, we need to go inside before the seats are gone.” He started walking again, cane clicking against the church's stone pathway.

Luxord hurried after him. “You were the one who stopped first!”  
  



	11. Agnus Dei

Facilier hadn't been to a Catholic mass in some years, but it seemed like nothing had changed since then.

“ _Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.”_

For one, he was just as bored stiff with it as he had been at the widow Euphemia's funeral some five years back.

“ _Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.”_

For two, he wished they'd swap out of Latin and into a language people actually understood, like French or English. Boni looked near about to vibrate out of her seat, and Luxord had the intense gaze of someone who must appear to be paying attention while doing something more interesting inside their head; currently, he was having a staring match with the stained glass window that towered over the priests.

“ _Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,”_

The seats were made of polished wood, which looked very nice but were quite literally a pain in the behind. This did not even begin to touch the agony of having to kneel on the wooden kneelers, which Facilier had tried once before his knee decided to light itself on fire.

“ _dona nobis pacem.”_

At least it was almost over. People were starting to line up to get the Host and the choir was on at full blast. At least the singing was good, even if he could only understand one word in five of Latin.

Luxord shifted. “Do I need to go up there?”

“No, stay put. No filthy pagans eating Jesus,” Facilier whispered.

Luxord gave him a flat look and whispered back: “Even I know it's supposed to be a metaphor.”

“Metaphor, whatever, it still means we aren't welcome. Kneel if you can and you shouldn't attract unwanted attention.”  
  
“It's not like we're getting any attention other than your cousin in law glaring daggers anyway.”

“No chatting during mass!” Annette hissed.

Facilier rolled his eyes and hunched over, reviewed the talismans he'd need to make when he went home. Luxord coughed sheepishly and lowered his head, and remained silent as people processed forward to see the priests. They both crooked their legs to allow Annette and Melvin to get into line, and Boni kicked her legs.

“I can't go up yet,” Boni said. “I'm still taking lessons on how to get Communion.”

“You need to be taught all the proper rituals?” Luxord asked.

Boni nodded. “I will and then I'll get to go up like a big kid! I just turned seven, you know.”

“You're already very wise,” Luxord said. His smile was soft. “My granny would sew outfits for us for similar times.”

“Woah. How many siblings do you have?”

Facilier saw Luxord's shoulders tense, though his smile stayed the same. “Two brothers and one sister.”

And at least the sister dead, Facilier thought.

“What are they like?” Boni asked.

Again, the tension. Again, Luxord's voice and face stayed casual. “My older brother is happiest when people are paying attention to him. He did great things and stupid things for it. My younger brother is the smartest one in the family and lets everyone know it. My sister – I assume you've seen how energetic four year olds can be? When Granny would take her on walks, she'd run ahead and leave Granny behind – she'd have to call us in to help. Very excited.”

Four years old, Facilier thought. Barely grown at all. It was no wonder Luxord was trying to phrase things like the girl was still alive so he could avoid questions. Had she wandered into the path of a car? Or was she taken by childhood illness? Facilier had been at enough tiny deathbeds to know how common that was. Could have been as recent as the Spanish Flu epidemic, or as far back as Luxord was but a child himself. Maybe 20 years ago? 25? The grief was long enough ago for him to have sealed it tightly inside himself, to speak of it without weeping. How long had that taken?

Was that why his body was unmarred by emotions? Had he cut them off in his grief?

Annette and Melvin came back, and the music changed, for once, to a song with lyrics in English, not Latin. The children of the church bounded into the middle walkway to go get blessed by the priests, followed by parents holding babies and guiding one year toddlers. Boni skipped into line and bounced there.

“ _This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine;”_

Facilier heard a sharp intake of breath; he looked to Luxord, whose face flickered – the expression of someone trying to suppress a sob. Luxord breathed heavily, put a hand to his face and rubbed it. His eyes flickered shut and the beginnings of a tear dripped down to his cheekbone.

“ _This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine;”_

Luxord wiped his face again; his eyes went huge when his hand came back wet.

“ _This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine;  
Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine!”_

“Here,” Facilier said, and gave Luxord a kerchief, beating out an offer from Annette. Luxord nodded and wiped his eyes with it. “Ari – thank you,” he murmured.

“You're welcome,” Facilier said.

Annette gave them both a questioning look as Melvin watched Boni. Facilier turned away deliberately; no sense in giving her the wrong idea about – anything. The Shadow Man didn't bother to care for customers, after all, and Luxord was just a customer. That was all.


	12. Jack of Diamonds, Knight of Swords

“You ate an hour and a half ago,” Facilier said.

Luxord did not put down his fork. “I can't hear you over this homemade lemon cake.” And then he did not say anything else because his mouth was full.

Facilier sighed. There were only three left at the table set up on the grass outside the church: Luxord, Facilier himself, and the line of desserts. “You're real lucky Annette is watching Boni out at the Easter Egg hunt or she'd be mocking you silly.”

“You can taste the love that was put into it,” Luxord said, ignoring Facilier, and he sucked another bite off his fork. “It's full of heart.”

“You and your hearts,” Facilier teased. “Heart this, heart that. Are you the king of hearts?”

“That was my father. Call me jack of diamonds,” Luxord replied.

Jack of Diamonds, Facilier thought. If it was tarot, that'd be the Knight of Pentacles. Reliable, rich, a keeper of promises. Unimaginative and old fashioned. Sometimes a sign that you'd need take responsibility in the future.

That did sound like Luxord.

“Jack of Diamonds it is. Who am I?”

“The Jack of Spades, of course.”

The Knight of Swords. To wit, Solomon wielding his sword to find the truth of two mothers; the judging knight who brought his blade down upon the unworthy. Justice without mercy.

“Good call,” Facilier purred. If Luxord knew tarot, he had at least a basic grasp of the cards; if not, then at least the knight of spades was stylish.

“Do you play card games?” Luxord asked. “I always keep a deck or two on me in the event I have time to spare.

“I'd take you up on it if it wasn't bad manners to gamble at church. I”m pushing my luck with my reputation here as is.”

“Really? Easter's a time of games back home. It's too bad you don't get visited by the Easter Bunny and have a chase. It's always a grand time at home.”

“We don't chase any rabbits here. Is this the bunny friends with Jack Pumpkin-Head?”

“Jack the Pumpkin King,” Luxord corrected. “He visits on Halloween to scare children and to help fight any creatures trying to steal away the souls of the dead before they visit on All Spirits Day.”

“Is that so?”

“Is that not the function of Halloween?” Luxord scraped the remaining crumbs and lemon filling on his plate onto his fork. “It's the beginning of a three day festival to celebrate and commune with the recently departed.”

“Not here,” Facilier said. “Boni's going to want us to help find easter eggs soon. Do y'all dress up on Halloween like we do?”

“Of course! All the better to chase away hungry ghosts.”

“Are you sure you're not a hungry ghost? You look liable to lick the plate clean.”

Luxord chuckled. “When even love and ecstasy are gone, there is always food.”

“Amen to that.”

Facilier didn't notice LeBouf approaching until he clapped a big hand on Facilier's shoulder and another on Luxord's. Facilier froze. So did Luxord.

“Nice to see you coming here at last, Lazare! It's nice to see you're thinking about your soul at last!”

Don't snap at him, Facilier thought, don't snap, make a scene at Easter around Big Daddy and you'll never live it down if you manage to live. “Yessir,” Facilier said, lowering his eyes. “I thought it'd be nice to visit.”

“Facilier?” Luxord mouthed.

“Then you must be the young man who convinced him to come here. Let me shake your hand!” Big Daddy offered his own, and Luxord hesitantly took it, then slid into easy smile, firm grip.

“You're Mr. LeBouf, I believe? I've heard _so_ much about you,” Luxord said.

LeBouf laughed. “All good, I hope! And you can call me Big Daddy. Everybody does.”

Luxord smiled guilelessly. “You sound just like my father. Casual to the core – he had the same friendly way with people.”

“Thank you, son!” The toe of Luxord's boot dug into the ground. “This is my daughter, Charlotte.”

Luxord's hand was seized by the young blonde woman and shook vigorously; it was a miracle, Facilier thought, she didn't lay Luxord to the ground with it. His guileless smile widened and he clasped her hand. “What a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte.”

“You can call me Lottie,” she purred. “It's so nice to have visitors coming around here! Have you been enjoying New Orleans? I heard you came from the Far East! Is it nice there? Is it better here? You've got such interesting gloves, were they made out there?”

“I have been enjoying New Orleans. I suppose I am from the Far East, and it's very nice there. It's also nice here. My gloves were made somewhere else,” Luxord said, rattling answers off like bullets into targets.

But it didn't stop Charlotte. “I do wonder if they make them for women? They have such nice fittings! I'm sure Daddy could afford to import some in.”

Facilier saw Annette trailing after LeBouf. He stood, leaning heavily on his cane, and limped over to them as fast as possible. “What did you tell them?” he whispered.

Annette hissed back: “That he came to visit from Hong Kong and that he's got an interest in saving your miserable soul! Which are both true.”

“No, they're not! He never said anything about Hong Kong or conversions! He just likes visiting churches and eating with chopsticks! He could just be from England and eccentric!”

“No one in England uses chopsticks!”

“How would you know? You've never visited England!”

“I've read books about it! And Mr. LeBouf's allowed to be worried about your soul, he's your unc- “   
  
Facilier put his hand over her mouth before she could finish the damning word. “Do you want Charlotte to hear? My head's on the chopping block if she finds out because of me!”

Annette pulled his hand down and hissed: “Your mother told me and she was fine with it!”

“My mother should have known better than to tell you!”

“If Adelaide was still alive, she'd tan your hide for being rude to your family!”

“Don't turn my mother into one of your paper saints! You didn't like her so much when she was still alive and actively practicing voudou and doing more to help people with it than anyone _here_ did!”

It came out of his mouth louder than he intended; his veins turned cold as Annette's expression darkened.

And then Luxord grabbed his arm. “Excuse me, I need to talk to Facilier, please pardon us, we'll be back later, goodbye.” He started walking quickly away, pulling pressure off of Facilier's bad leg so Facilier could hop along with him away, away to the park across the street.

He'd never felt so glad to be manhandled. “What is it?”

“If I have to spend another minute talking about how exotic my clothing and my eyes are and how how great it is to find a nice Catholic boy from far away, I'm going to eat my own gloves,” Luxord replied. “You'd think no one had ever seen leather before.”

“You aren't even that handsome. You look like someone rolled over your face with a rolling pin.” That got a chuckle out of Luxord, and Facilier felt a smile twitching. “Did they follow us?”

Luxord looked back. “We lost your sister in law. I managed to distract LeBouf and Charlotte with talk of Charlotte's workaholic friend to make my escape, so we shouldn't see them again.”

“Good. You can let go now.”

Luxord gently released Facilier; Facilier used his cane to walk three feet and collapsed onto a swing. Luxord took the swing next to him and gave him a worried look as Facilier massaged his aching knee.

“It's fine,” Facilier said before Luxord could ask. “It acts up now and then. It's nothing for you to worry about.”

“Can't pay a dead man,” Luxord said, “and it's difficult to go on tours with one bedridden with pain.” He rocked in his swing. “It seems to happen whenever your heart is filled with pain.”

“It's always hurting,” Facilier said.

“Exactly.”

Facilier gave Luxord a look, the purse of his lips daring the other man to stick to his observation. Luxord gestured back, careless as a man stating the obvious.

“You've known me for a month and a half,” Facilier said flatly.

“I may be the idiot of my family but I have some talents,” Luxord said, "Sight is one of them."

Facilier groaned and leaned back in the swing. “Don't go around getting ideas about that.”

“I'm not one to kiss and tell,” Luxord said airily. “Besides, family only sees what it wants to see. It's easier to have a troublemaker than a troubled relative. If they wanted to know, they'd have done it by now.”

“Why'd you come here, anyway? You've got those brothers and daddy, don't you? Why aren't you spending Easter with them?”

Luxord's feet dug into the sand as he pushed himself into the air. “There wouldn't be any point to it. They don't care about me, and I don't care about them.” His legs kicked out to start him swinging shallow arcs.

“The doctor diagnoses some family troubles,” Facilier said.

“Your family has the observational skills of a rock, but they have enough heart to care about you in some fragmented way. It's more worthwhile to leech off that than stay where there's none.”

“And so you're paying to go to my family reunions instead,” Facilier said. “If you're that desperate, I've got some hoodoo that might help.”

Facilier could hear the forced levity in Luxord's voice. “If I thought it would work, I'd have bought it.”

Shrug. “It was worth trying. I can't believe you'd travel so far just to have a heart to heart.”

A pause. Luxord looked at Facilier like he'd just held up the corner piece to a puzzle. “Would I?”

“You could find company well enough at home. You've got to want something more than a tour guide, don't you?”

“I'll answer your question if you answer mine,” Luxord said.

“Go on.”

“If there were other worlds – if you could leave this one and get away from all of this, at the cost of never speaking to anyone here again, would you do it?”

Facilier blinked. “What's that got to do with anything?”

“I'll tell you when you answer,” Luxord said in the same odd voice.

He didn't have to think to answer. “I'd go. Hell, if an alien walked up to me and asked me to get in the saucer, I wouldn't even go home to pack.”

Luxord's eyes crinkled as he smiled. It was the first time Facilier had seen Luxord's eyes smile along with his mouth. The sudden warmth - it was as if his face had become the sun. “That was what I had hoped to hear.”

It was enough to make Facilier's cheeks heat up, and he looked away before Luxord could catch any hint of it.

What was that supposed to mean - and what was that with his smile? He'd seen plenty of smiles out of the dumb white - no. Not a white boy. China boy, or something like it, and either way - maybe that changed a little something.

Maybe this was some kind of test, and he'd passed it.

"Why?" He started, voice husky, and he stopped talking to lick his lips, wet his mouth. "Why do you ask?"

“What if I told you,” Luxord, said low and intimate, “that you're not alone in the universe? That New Orleans is just one star in the sea of the sky? That there's other worlds out there that would welcome a doctor of hearts with open arms, no matter his color or if he used a cane?”

Any other day, any other occasion, he would ask what he's been smoking, but he's had a month and a half to know Luxord doesn't tell wild stories, to wonder at it.

It was Easter and his customer was a man from the East with skin like milk and hair like honey, and the only reason a man like that would spend his holy day with colored folks was if he really didn't see a problem.

"I'd ask: what brought someone from them other worlds out here?"

He dared to look at Luxord. His face was still lit up bright, and grew brighter still when Facilier's eyes met his.

“And I'd say: the word heart, where I come from, is another word for 'soul'. I'd say that space had a plague of monsters that stole away the souls of men, and those who survived were rendered without hearts, monsters of another kind. And for one lacking a heart to find another whose heart was as beautiful as an opal, as radiant as a diamond, as flawless as jet – a rare gem in a world full of pebbles among a thousand worlds of pebbles in the sea of stars -

“I'd say: for someone striving for the cure to a lost heart, someone with such a heart would be both hope and salve.”

Flattery gets you nowhere, his granny used to say, and Facilier isn't surprised she was wrong about that too, because no, flattery would get Luxord everywhere. Facilier was no easily swindled child, but he was human and he had an ego just as any other man did.

"The owner of that heart would have some questions then, wouldn't he? But I only have one: what do you need from me?"

His voice was soft, intimate and warm as the spider drawing in a fly, but whether this was trap or truth would be seen.

One thing was true: he believed Luxord.

Luxord faltered there, his brilliance fading. “I have an offer for you. There would be freedom and power unimaginable, but also terrible risk and pain. The Superior – my employer is not a good man, but he seeks the salvation of all those who have lost their hearts. To gain, something must be lost.

“I would not force you to take this offer,” Luxord said, and his porcelain face was marred with reluctance. “I wish that you would, but you deserve to know what it will cost before you take it, and it may be too much to be worth the reward. But I would ask you to listen. And I would ask – if it is not a worthy offer, to continue working with me. My employer seeks monsters who devour hearts, and they live in New Orleans. And you, of perfect heart, are the one I believe can find them.”

Perfect heart. Let me offer you freedom and power, and let me tell you the price so you know what you're getting into. You're free to say no, but just listen.

Praise. A choice. And the freedom to refuse it. How long has it been since he was offered these things? How long since someone thought he was worth giving a choice beyond lose his dignity or die?

“Don't follow in my footsteps,” his mother had told him on her last day: thin and burning away from fever on her deathbed but still lucid, still bright eyed for him. “Don't take my debt. You've been working so hard to help me, Lazare, and it's been enough. I want you to be able to live your own life.”

He didn't have to look up to know six masks were staring at him with hungry eyes. He didn't have to look to the foot of her bed to see the seventh watching his mother, waiting for her soul to leave her body.

She hadn't meant to give him that choice. She'd told him he could refuse. But he'd taken the necklace that represented her debt to the Friends on the Other Side and put it on without hesitation.

“It wouldn't be worth the freedom if they ate you, Mama,” he said. “You saved my life. Let me save your soul.”

He held her in his arms, then. Held her and brought her cool water and sang until she breathed her last, and he felt the Baron escort her soul away. Until the only ones left in the house were him and seven hungry demons. The price of his mother's soul was heavy around his neck. Was still heavy to this day, twin dog teeth ever cold against his collarbone.

“I can't say I'll say yes,” Facilier said, “but I'll listen. And I think I know where to find those monsters you seek.”

“It's a deal.” Luxord's fingers ghosted over Facilier's - a promise more genuine than his handshake. “It's too open to speak more here. When we return to your house, I'll explain.”

“I can wait. We've got all the time in the universe, haven't we?”

“We do,” Luxord murmured. Then he brightened. “Until then, want to play cards?”

“Deal me in,” Facilier said, grinning. “We're not at church, so we can play as much as we like.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of thanks to chuplayswithfire, ibenholt and karakael for helping me so much with this chapter!


	13. Two of Cups

“Left church to play card games!” Annette huffed as everyone got back in the car. “Ran away from me!”

“We were there to get Boni out of the tree, weren't we?” Luxord said. “That wouldn't have happened unless we were in the park.”

“And her dress is ruined!”

Boni gave Facilier a long suffering look. There was mud on her dress and her face, one of her socks had ripped and her basket was full of painted eggs.

“She was out gathering Easter Eggs. Where did you think they were hidden, in a pile of clean towels?” Facilier asked.

Annette glared at him. Facilier glared back. Boni defiantly hugged him. Luxord shuffled his deck of cards and sank into the back of the car as the Melvin started it.

The drive home was unremarkable. Luxord, Boni and Facilier played Go Fish on their knees while Annette pointedly ignored them and Melvin took corners slowly. Facilier's knee only ached a little. Luxord threw a game so Boni could win, and gathered up cards when they fell off their laps and around their feet, and laughed at all of Boni's seven year old jokes.

“Those with no soul have no emotions,” Luxord had explained a few minutes before they realized Boni was stuck in a tree. He mimicked otherwise well. His face only went blank in the breaths he thought no one was watching. He was much more careful about it near Boni than he ever had been with Facilier -

But then again, he had come to Facilier with the intent to tell him about his problem, hadn't he? There had been no need for Luxord to actively hide it from from Facilier.

Luxord opened the door for Facilier when they arrived back at his house as if he were a celebrity. Luxord's arm took Facilier's weight as Facilier pulled his cane out of the car, and Boni hopped out afterwards for another hug.

“Thank you for coming, Uncle Lazare.” And she hugged Luxord. “It was nice to meet you, Mister Luxord.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Boni. I hope we meet again,” Luxord said, and hugged back. As she hopped back in the car, he gave Annette and Melvin a shallow bow. “Thank you for allowing me to join you, however briefly, on this day of celebration.”

“It was a pleasure to meet a, ahem, friend of Lazare's,” Melvin said. “It was nice to have him and you join us at church. Try and get him to come back again, will you?”

“I can't make any promises,” Luxord said, and waved the idea away. “He's his own man.”

“That he is,” Annette said dryly. “But it's good to attempt.”

Facilier sighed. “It was good to see you two. I'll come around to the shop next week, Melvin.”

Short goodbyes followed before Melvin and company drove away, leaving Luxord and Facilier by the street. “Shall we?” Facilier said, and bowed, gestured at his shop.

“We shall,” Luxord replied, and bowed back, mirrored the gesture with a grin.

Like a partner and conspirator, not a mocking rich man.

Facilier took Luxord by the arm and lead him back to the shop. “Now, then, shall we continue our deal?”

“To deal is my i-deal,” Luxord said, and Facilier snorted. “I'm called a dealer in many places, and dealing is my i-deal-ogy.”

“Eye-dee-ology,” Facilier corrected. “It's a tricky word.”

“I can't believe no one here's adopted a phonetic alphabet,” Luxord said with a smile that indicated he knew Facilier was helpful, not mocking. “It makes things so much simpler in the long run.”

“I second that,” Facilier said. “Now, shall we take these matters of the heart to heart?”

“I would reply with a hearty yes!”

Facilier snorted. “Should've know that heart puns would start you off. ”

“As long as puns don't chase you off, I'll be content to use them until the day is done,” Luxord said. “Besides, you know the use of a gimmick, don't you? Give yourself a mask and the world will never find the real you.”

Facilier looked up at the skull and crossbones painted over his shop door: the one he'd painted the week after he went into business. “So you just put on the puns?”

“I actually do like them, but it's useful to have a reputation. Black coat. Cards. Puns. Jovial. The Gambler's role in the party is a jack of all trades, taking the role of the magus, the fighter, the guardian. But playing many roles mean none is mastered; the only thing that stays is the luck that lets you survive.”

Luxord's face was blank; though his words were depressing, he sounded as though he thought himself simply stating facts. "Were you a gambler before you lost your heart?” Facilier asked.

“I was. My father and I had an argument about where the future would lead me. I told him I didn't want to go into the family business. He told me not to come back to the house until I came to my senses, so I didn't. I found the first person who could get me out of town and took the ship with him in it out of town. He was a merchant, and he was going to the biggest casino in the universe – it seemed that luck and money were the cards dealt to me, and I took them.” Luxord shrugged. “I like card games. If you know the odds, you can weigh your chances and choose your fate."

That was more about Luxord's past than Facilier had expected. What lead should he follow? "Your father sounds like a hothead,” Facilier decided.

“The thing that will explain my father to you – he had three spouses and a fiance younger than me before he died,” Luxord said with a bitter smile. “Two divorces, one death, and that's not counting everyone he didn't officially marry.”

Facilier snorted as he opened the door. “A man enslaved to the whims of his heart. I'm sure Mr. LeBouf would just _love_ to know that.”

“What he doesn't know won't kill him.” Luxord wiped the mud off his boots as he stepped inside, then turned around to face Facilier, his arms outstretched. Drama king, Facilier thought as he followed him in. “Now, about the state of your heart.”

It was at that point that the Gator dropped down from the ceiling and raked it's claws down Luxord's back.

As Facilier froze up, the shadowy demon raised it's claws and swiped. Luxord lunged forward and pushed Facilier to the open door. “Run!”

Facilier stumbled toward the door, not looking back, and smacked into it as it slammed shut. The Soldier mask slid down, thin lips pulled back to reveal crooked teeth. **No leaving so soon, shadow boy, not if you've been working with the nowhere man again.**

“That's none of your business,” Facilier snapped, and pushed himself away from the wall. “I told you all not to kill my main source of income!”

 **Then why did he speak of your heart, which is our collateral for your debt?** said the Murderess, shadows snaking out of her narrow mask. **Have you forgotten what is due to us?**

“What kind of idiot question is that?!” Facilier snapped, and scrambled back. One of her shadowy hands grabbed his ankle and pulled him toward her. “C'mon, I didn't mean anything bad by it, _don't!”_

Too late. She ran a hand down his leg and he felt the old injury spring back, his foot and shin cracking and spasming as they were pulled out like dough. “Dooon't!”

The Gator screamed too. Facilier looked over; it clutched at the stump of a severed arm and fell back as Luxord's attention snapped to the Murderess. Part of his mouth was torn to reveal teeth and gums, a sickening smile, but there was no pain or fear in his face as he flicked his fingers and a half-dozen shields spun around him. He had the blank eyes of a dead man - but his snarl sounded alive. “Don't you know the rules?”

 **The rules here are ours, nothing man. This is our heart, our house, our kingdom!** She pulled her shadowy body out of her mask – a skeletal woman who drew a knife from her huge, old-fashioned dress.

Luxord grabbed one of the shields from the air – it was a playing card, Facilier realized, an enormous playing card, and he would laugh at the choice of weapon if not for the effort of not screaming - and used it to slam her into the wall. She screamed and threw her knife at him, but he pulled another giant card and used it to shield himself.

_**Snarl!** _

Luxord ducked into a roll as the Gator leapt at him – and it hit the Murderess instead, leaving them in a tangle of limbs in the corner. Luxord righted himself with ease and pulled Facilier into his arms in a bridal carry, backed away.

“They blocked the door. Can we use the upstairs to exit?” Luxord asked, voice unwavering.

“Nnno, they'll have it guarded,” Facilier wheezed. “Attacked by demons and – you're not phased?”

“This is actually my day job. You didn't mention that all the heart eating monsters were _in your house_ ,” Luxord said, with the audacity to sound miffed.

“It slipped my mind, ok! I was distracted on account of every relative in my life ganging up on me!”

“I'm positive you have more annoying relatives than the ones I met today!”

“How would you know?!”

Luxord jumped over a shadowy arm grabbing for his ankle and ran for the stairs. “Because my annoying family's bigger than that and I only have access to my father's relatives!”

The Bull's enormous mask lowered over the door to the stairs. Luxord skittered to a halt and slapped the jeweled bracelet on his arm. “Protectga!” A golden light shimmed around him and Facilier, and he summoned more giant playing cards around him as the Bull opened their enormous toothy maw.

**Everyone, stop fighting.**

Luxord's brow furrowed, and he tightened the card shield surrounding him and Facilier. Tightened his grip on Facilier and held him to his chest.

**Murderess, Soldier, Gator, stand down. Nothing man, lay down your weapons. Let us negotiate.**

“Thank you,” Facilier muttered. He tapped Luxord's shoulder. “You can calm down. The Bull's the leader. If they're calling a peace, the others will listen to them.”

Luxord nodded. “Then I'll lay down arms; however, I will leave my card shield up.”

**Accepted.**

He carefully set Facilier down in his safe circle of cards; Facilier whimpered as his leg touched the ground and arched, trying to get it so that the least amount of leg was lying on the floor. “Luxord, just talk to the Bull, they'll fix things quickly and then - “

“You're hurt,” Luxord said, eyes flicking to the smear of blood Facilier's leg left behind.

“You can't fix it - “

Luxord spun his bracelet and tapped a green gem. “I can try. Cure.”

Facilier smelled mint and sage before pain redoubled in his leg. “Aaaugh – whatever you did, it's only making it worse!”

“Damn!” Luxord spat.

 **You infused him with the essence of life, didn't you?** said the Bull. **Lazare Facilier has been dead for seven years; the essence of life can only be torn from him anew.**

“More dead – you mean, you're undead?” Luxord asked.

Facilier nodded. “Yyyyes, I am, and it's not going to get any better until you stop screwing around and talk to Bull!”

“Then,” Luxord said, and he looked up at the Bull, “you control his health? And that's your bargaining chip in this.”

**He owes us a debt. You cannot have his heart until he has paid us in full for the services we have rendered him. If you were to destroy us before then, then our services in maintaining his health would cease. We could not guarantee he would survive.**

“Which would make the point of me coming here moot,” Luxord said. “Then you wish to be left alone?”

**We will not interfere with you if you do not interfere with us.** **Gator will forgive your offenses against him and you will not pursue him or us further.**

The Gator waved his severed arm at Bull. **You can't promise that! He cut my arm off!**

“You ruined my second favorite dress shirt,” Luxord replied cooly. “I can't get that replaced or repaired, you know. You can regrow an arm.”

**I – how do you know that?!**

“I know a lot of things,” Luxord said. “Heal him, and perhaps I'll tell you.”


	14. Two of Wands

The Friends fixing Facilier's leg was almost as painful as the Friends ruining it. Bones snapped back into place as if pulled by magnets and muscles squirmed to fit back on the bone. He groaned and bit his sleeve, trying to muffle his screams.

Luxord took his hands and gripped them tightly. Facilier squeezed back. That was all he focused on until the pain in his leg had dulled into the usual lingering ache.

“How's your leg?” Luxord asked.

“Better,” Facilier said. Luxord's gloves were thick, but his grip was steel under them. It was easy to use him as leverage to sit up. His vision blurred from the change in equilibrium, and Luxord steadied him with an arm around his back that felt as likely to falter as a steel fence.

It was weakness to rely on him so much, but Facilier couldn't bring himself to care.

“I'd offer something for the pain, but every anesthetic I have has enough life energy to harm you,” Luxord said. He let go of Facilier's hand to pop out a blue bottle that fit within the palm of his hand. A flick of his thumb popped the top, and he swallowed the contents in a single gulp.

The effect was instantaneous. Muscle and skin crawled over the tear in his mouth and knit back together, leaving fresh pink skin. Facilier touched without thinking; it was as soft and pliant as baby skin. “I can't feel any scarring.”

“There is none. If using potions left a scar, I wouldn't be able to move for scar tissue,” Luxord said, pocketing the empty bottle.

Gator snorted. **Big talk for a small man.**

“My skill speaks for me,” Luxord said. “Or would you say anyone could dis-arm you?”

“I can't believe you're calm enough for puns at a time like this,” Facilier said.

“The great benefit and drawback of having no heart is the loss of emotions. No joy comes with a lack of fear. I do not believe the Bull would renege on our deal so soon, so neither of us are in any danger. Would sitting in my lap make you feel calmer?”

“I'm not a child!” Facilier snapped.

Luxord's confident blankness faltered. “My apologizes. That's not what I meant to imply.”

It was a serious offer, Facilier realized. What would be mockery from anyone else was – an offer of comfort?

“I 'cept your apology,” Facilier mumbled. “You should tell 'em about the things you know before they get impatient. The Friends aren't waiting types.”

“Of course.” Luxord got out a notepad and started scribbling. “I'll try to make this quick and use small words everyone can understand.”

**Hey!**

Luxord drew a curvy area in the northwest corner of his notepad and drew some circles, the pointed to one. “This world is called Bayou Boulevard in space, and is part of the Quarantine Zone. The population of the Quarantine Zone is considered too dangerous to be allowed to travel off their worlds, so they are guarded by two things: first, magical barriers that make entering or leaving each world difficult, and second, by the fleets of the Great Guardian worlds." A few more circles - worlds? - were drawn around the curving border line. "The Great Guardians have each experienced the terror of the Quarantine Worlds firsthand, and thus are all highly motivated to keep the Quarantines in check and are compensated by the rest of the universe for it.”

**How did you get in here?**

“Bribery and lock-picking,” Luxord said. “Now, going clockwise from the Quarantine Zone and Great Guardians, we see the tip of the Disnet Constellation, where the aliens known as Disnets live.

“Disney with a t,” Facilier said flatly. “You're telling me that Mickey Mouse is an alien.”

“He's married to the queen alien,” Luxord said. “Disnets are so advanced that many of their worlds are dedicated to hedonistic pursuits because they are centuries beyond humanity – and this is after humanity gained technology from them. Since war makes it harder for them to have fun, they play peacekeeper to any conflict that comes too close to their territory, and then some.”

“King Mouse doesn't like having his parties crashed, got it,” Facilier said. “What's next?”

Luxord's hand moved clockwise, to the northeast of the map. “The Fairy Kingdoms, where humans co-exist with fairies – who are aliens and feed off emotions. Don't ask me how, I haven't had a biology class in 15 years. If you went north, you'd find all-fairy worlds next to all-Disnet worlds, but that's not part of human territory so I don't have a good map of those.”

He drew many worlds scattered around the south of the map. “Next is the Silk Sea. This large area is where most of humanity lives. There are alliances and kingdoms of two to seven worlds here, and sometimes there's small wars, but nothing on the scale of the Smallpox Wars that formed the Quarantine Zone; they're far enough from the Disnets that they don't interfere. Many of them have self-quarantined themselves because they want to focus on their own world, not others.”

“Last is the Corridor of Light.” He ran his finger to a line of worlds that stretched vertical; the top marked a border between the Disnet Constellation and the Fairy Kingdoms, and the bottom dipped into the Silk Sea. “This string of worlds originated as colonies for refugees to stay during the Smallpox Wars, but evolved into the trade hub of human space because they border everyone.”

 **I see. You said you fought beings like us every day. Elaborate,** said the Bull.

Luxord nodded. “About nine years ago, the fairy queen Maleficent started a campaign of conquest beginning on the world Hollow Bastion, a trade hub in the Corridor of Light.” What a name, Facilier thought. “She opened a portal to the Realm of Darkness, where heartless such as yourselves - “

**What's a heartless?**

“A human soul or heart is made of three things: light, which is the desire to have friends and love; darkness, the desire to exist as oneself; and void, the state of not desiring. The Realm of Darkness is where Kingdom Hearts, the origin of all souls, is located. Since a soul must desire to exist in order to exist, Kingdom Hearts is surrounded by darkness generated by newborn souls; when the darkness's desire to exist grows too great, it will take a heart from Kingdom Hearts and create a creature of darkness around it. This is a Heartless – living darkness which steals hearts to try to obtain one of it's own, rather than waiting to be born into a living being.”

 **I'm confused,** said the Soldier.

The Bull went, **Shh!**

“Maleficent opened a portal to the Realm of Darkness and summoned an army of heartless to attack Hollow Bastion," Luxord continued. "Most heartless, unlike yourselves, have no mind, and will attack and devour the nearest being with a heart. When they eat enough hearts, they'll split in two; this is how they reproduce. Nothing is capable of killing a heartless permanently except a weapon full of the power of light – which are very rare and difficult to use. With a constantly expanding immortal army, she killed 2/3 of the population of Hollow Bastion in a single day while the rest fled. The heartless then used the trade routes surrounding it to travel to other worlds and massacre them as well.”

Luxord drew a clockwise spiral on the map. “Since Disnet defenses were impenetrable, she went from the Corridor of Light to the Fairy Kingdoms and then started traveling clockwise. Each world she attacked would fall between a week to several months later, depending on forewarning and how advanced they were. The bulk of her forces are currently around here,” and he tapped an area between the Quarantine Zone, the Corridor of Light and the north border of the Silk Sea, “looking for a way to get into the Quarantine Zone and preparing a pincer attack on the refugee world of Traverse Town.”

 **So, how do you know all this? And what's it got to do with us?** The Gator rumbled.

“My Organization is studying the heartless to find ways to disrupt Maleficent's armies and take worlds back from her. As survivors of heartless attacks – or nothings, as you so charmingly called me - we're uniquely immune to some of their attacks, which makes capturing and studying them easier. You all exist on this world despite no interference from Maleficent – I was sent to capture one of you for my superiors to study.”

What a pity that you'll be leaving empty handed, the Gator said.

 **We must discuss this,** said the Bull. **You are allowed to continue to hire Facilier as long as you maintain your generous financial compensation, which he claims is beneficial. I will tell you if you may find results to your search** _._

**Bull!**

**I'll brook no arguments from you, Gator, unless you can prove there's no profit from a man from the stars.**

The Friends all crammed into the Bull's mask one by one; the Gator petulant, the Murderess following close behind taunting him, the Soldier with mask held ramrod straight, and then the Bull themself with quiet dignity.

“I don't think I've seen so many large things cram into a small space since my father brought home those two priests of light and they stayed in his room for three days,” Luxord said.

Facilier muffled a laugh. “That tight, huh?”

“When he saw what he wanted, he'd pursue wholeheartedly until he gained. He could talk bricks into flying and clouds into falling. The only people it didn't work on was his family.” Luxord's brow flickered troubled. “I think it was better it didn't, in the end.”

“Was it?”

Luxord didn't answer. Instead he asked, “Can you walk?”

Facilier tried putting pressure on his heel and lightning shot through his bones. “I don't think so.”

“I'll help you upstairs,” Luxord said. He gave the Bull's mask a meaningful look before looking to Facilier: I want to talk out of earshot of them.

Facilier nodded. “Go ahead.”

One arm under his knees and another under his armpits; Luxord picked Facilier up as easily as if he were a feather pillow. Which, Facilier realized, meant that it was easy to rest his head against Luxord's chest.

As he had when Luxord had tried to carry him to safety twenty minutes before. And he hadn't been thinking about it, too caught up in pain and adrenaline. This close, it was easy to see the curve of developed pectorals and where torn shirt revealed muscular shoulders. And when Luxord took the stairs, Facilier let his head fall against his left breast.

There was no heartbeat.

He really had lost his heart – his soul. Whatever. Heart, soul; heartless, demon; different words, same thing. There were aliens who had souls like humans, and humans who became undead like him, and there were other worlds where they fought demons or heartless or whatever the Friends were. There were others who had demons take their hearts.

Incredible. Facilier had wondered if anyone else had demon problems like him; he hadn't expected that the answer was _yes, they do in space_.

Luxord knew his way around Facilier's home well enough that he bee-lined to the bed once he got upstairs, and set him on it gently. Gravity's pull was stronger than the shreds of his shirt, then, and a corner flopped down.

Facilier stared for the length of five heartbeats before he snapped his gaze away. It wasn't right. Not that he minded nudity, not that he was being tempted by carnal ideas or any nonsense like that; it was because the corner of Luxord's abdomen was covered in lines of scar tissue like scratch marks that gleamed as silver as clouds reflected in puddles.

No one liked having their scars stared at. Facilier certainly didn't like it; why would Luxord?

“I'm going to go change clothing. My coat should be dry by now,” Luxord said, pulling his shirt back up. “Do you want me to wash your pants before the blood dries?”

“That'd be nice,” Facilier said. They were his best pants, after all. “Turn around and give a man some privacy, will you?” Luxord spun around obediently.

“Why are you so eager to do housework?” Facilier asked as he carefully pulled wet fabric off his leg. The healing hadn't trapped any fabric under skin, thankfully.

“You catch more flies with honey than vinegar," Luxord demurred.

“You think doing my laundry is going to get me to go into space with you?”

“It's worth trying. Besides, this world doesn't have any of the useful tools that space does, so it's better to get the blood out before it dries.”

Facilier nodded. Made enough sense for it to at least be a half truth. He half sat up and handed Luxord his pants. “Here. I want to hear all about space tools when you get back.”

“As you wish,” Luxord said, and disappeared into the bathroom.

As soon as he was well and gone, Facilier twitched his fingers and whispered, “Shadow, bring me my pills.”

His shadow rose from his side and tugged the pill bottle off his bedside table. Facilier opened it, took one and swallowed it dry.

 _Water?_ Shadow asked.

Facilier shook his head. “Get hidden before he comes back out.”

Okay, Shadow said, and shrank back down until xe looked like simply his shadow once more.

Luxord came out of the bathroom zipping his leather coat up; Facilier's eyes were drawn to Luxord's chest as the leather clung to it, outlining the muscles in his chest and shoulders. He'd take them as leather bulking up a smaller frame, but Luxord had picked up Facilier and carried him as if he weighed no more than a pillow, had managed to literally disarm the Gator with no more than a (magic?) deck of cards.

He's a monster, Facilier thought. He imagined how easy it would be for Luxord to crush someone's throat with those stubby fingers; how one blow in the right place could burst kidneys and appendixes.

He thought about how Luxord had drawn the muggers away three weeks past, how Facilier hadn't seen them since then. And how Luxord had scared the Gator enough in dealing with them – and in using them to lure the Gator, possibly - that it had sparked the attack downstairs.

An image of Luxord beating one of the muggers flashed behind Facilier's eyelids; guileless smile fixed even as teeth came loose and bones shattered.

Facilier's lips twitched up.

“And what are you smiling at? The new laundry service?” Luxord teased, pulling a hand-sized piece of chocolate out of the picnic basket.

“Thinking about the benefits of future arrangements,” Facilier said.

Luxord smiled and offered the chocolate. Facilier broke off half and sucked on it; it was better quality than anything he'd ever had before, a little bitter with the sweet, a smooth texture instead of the grainy stuff he bought when he had a little extra money and his sweet tooth needed something.

“This is amazing,” he muttered.

“I went to El Mundo de la Vida on my way here,” Luxord said. “They're known for their chocolatiers.”

“How much did you pay for it?”

“Plenty,” Luxord said. “Cocoa is native to El Mundo de la Vida, so they've had plenty of time to take it to an art form. It's also illegal to grow it outside of the Great Guardian systems without a treaty stating otherwise, which gives them a monopoly on it.”

“And you may not have a heart, but you do have a tongue,” Facilier said. He bit off another tiny chunk of chocolate and let it melt in his mouth. “Did you bring this to try and woo me into your plot?”

“Partially. I also happen to like chocolate.”

Partially was still a yes. He'd brought a feast to bribe him, and was so intent on it that he hadn't minded Facilier's cousins and niece appearing. Had even seemed happy about it -

Had a sister, Luxord had said. Four years old. Energetic. His hometown was Radiant Garden, verdant, and a great plague of Heartless had swept through the universe and ravaged the populations of every world they visited. Unkillable monsters – bestial versions of the Friends – unleashed upon unsuspecting people. Would attack any creature they see, no matter what their age or looks or what human moral sense would tell them not to do.

It didn't take much to figure out why Luxord went through the motions of happiness around Boni.

“I assume the job has something to do with the Heartless?” Facilier asked.

Luxord nodded and took a chair from the table, sat next to Facilier's bed. “It does. Creatures like me – Nobodies, we are called – wish to regain a full existence. Having a heart was pleasant, and we all want it back. Using the power we gain from our search for revenge against Maleficent is the icing on the cake.”

“Makes sense. So are you looking for your lost hearts?”

“That would be akin to a needle in a haystack. Our plan is a gamble, but less time consuming and dangerous than handpicking hearts in monsters.”

He laid out some spade cards on the bed. “We are hunting the biggest heartless – which have eaten the most hearts – and capturing them.” He surrounded the spades with diamonds. “We're also looking for a weapon that can kill the heartless permanently, thus freeing those hearts inside them.” He gathered up the cards and dealt out a series of hearts instead. “Then, we use those hearts to create an artificial Kingdom Hearts, which will then grow fresh hearts for all Nobodies.”

“You're going to make a ball of souls and use it to grow more souls.”

“Yes.”

“Ok, so you can't just use someone else's heart because that would be nasty, right?” Luxord nodded. “How are you keeping all the souls in one place? And how are you not dying from all them heartless escaping?”

“We've got a magic castle,” Luxord explained. “Everything trapped inside it is forced to play card games to do anything of use, and most heartless are too stupid to win a game of poker. As long as no one opens the doors marked FULL OF HEARTLESS, DO NOT OPEN, it's safe.”

Facilier pursed his lips. “So how many people have opened them doors?”

Luxord's eye twitched. “I've personally trained and stationed my staff, called Gamblers, at every door to cut down on accidents. Fatalities have gone down 90% since I first started working at the castle.”

“So how'd you get a magic poker castle anyway?”

“I spent two years enchanting it to be a mere poker castle. It began as a magic Monopoly castle.”

Facilier whistled. “Whoever lived in that castle must have pissed someone off real bad. The inhabitants all dead?”

“And the land broken and salted. We don't know the whos or whys of it, just that it's there and it will make you play games.”

And that seemed like the end of the topic. Facilier nodded. “So since you need heartless, and I have heartless- ”

“If you have any that won't turn your leg into breaded pork, I'd love to take them off your hands,” Luxord said. “And if you've got anything that can, ah...” He gestured, cutting his throat. Anything that could kill a Heartless?

“If I had anything that could do that, do you think I'd be stuck with them?” Facilier deadpanned. Luxord raised his eyebrows and nodded. “But little ones pop up now and then. Usually the Friends eat them because this is their territory, but I doubt they'd mind you taking potential rivals instead.”

“Good,” Luxord said.

“And your big offer that I've got to be oh so careful about?”

Luxord offered his hand to Facilier. “Join me.”

Facilier blinked.

“My Organization requires thirteen people for the spell to get hearts out of Kingdom Hearts. The thirteen the Superior – my employer – deems skilled enough to cast it will get rewarded. There are twelve. We need one more.”

Facilier raised his eyebrows. “What's the catch?”

“The Organization is Nobodies only.” Luxord had the decency to look sheepish.

Facilier nodded. “That is a problem.”

“You have some heartless that could help you with that problem, but.”

“Yes.” Facilier liked his heart right where it was.

Luxord looked down in a passing semblance of remorse. Facilier huffed. “For someone who says he's got no emotions, you act it out pretty well.”

“I remember what it's like,” Luxord said. He looked up, face going blank. “Emotion colors meaning. A good morning with a smile is perceived differently than one with a frown. By presenting an appropriate face, I can choose the meaning others take from my words. Or I remember what emotion something evoked in me, and my face moves accordingly.”

“So how much of it was the former and how much was the latter?”

Luxord grinned and put a finger to his mouth. “Now, now; I can't reveal all my secrets at once, can I? To gain, you must lose; what will you tell me to know?”

“I don't want to know that badly. I'll figure it out myself.” Besides, why pay for it when he could taunt it out instead? “So I suppose you cried in church because you wanted my family to think you were a soft serve custard?”

Luxord's face stayed blank for a heartbeat too long before he smiled guilelessly. “Who could be more trustworthy than someone who cries at the climax of the service?”

Liar, Facilier thought; I've found one of your tells. “Then I must commend you for being able to cry on command.”

“I think that maintaining good relations with someone who has a vehicle we don't have to share with 20 other people is superior to messing around with 'the bus.'”

“What – no, we are not borrowing my cousin's car!”

“I'm not taking the bus again.” Luxord's brow furrowed and he crossed his arms. “Too many unknown factors, too much risk.”

“I do not get mugged every time I take the bus.”

“You act like you are. I can recognize the emotion of fearing for your life very well after nine years of heartless trying to eat everyone I know.”

“I – you – ” His knee cramped, setting off a chain of agony down his shin, and Facilier bit a whimper back. “You can't compare literal demons to white people!”

“You act more fearful outside your house around white people than inside it while it's crawling with 'literal demons',” Luxord said.

“Shut up!”

Luxord's face went blank. He stood. Oh no, Facilier thought. “No, I didn't mean that – ” don't fire me oh no don't do something -

“Pain can increase irritability. I've been thoughtless. Pardon me,” Luxord said, and he stood and went to the bathroom.

Facilier flicked his fingers; Shadow popped up. 'Follow him, and be ready to stop him if he does something dangerous,' Facilier mouthed, and Shadow nodded and slithered across the floor after Luxord.

Luxord came out with a pile of towels, then got a bowl from the cupboard and filled it with water. He twisted his bracelet and then put his hands around the bowl. “Fire.” Bubbles hissed and popped and steam rose from the bowl as it boiled. With the bowl in one hand and the towels on the other, Luxord headed back to Facilier's bed and placed the bowl on the chair, then reached for Facilier's bad leg.

Then he jerked back as if an invisible rope had yanked on his neck. Luxord gasped and spun around; his eyes locked on Shadow on the floor, and he pulled out a deck of cards. The card he pulled from the top grew huge and he brought it down onto the floor with enough force to shake the bed. Shadow zipped onto the wall; Luxord shook his bracelet and yelled, “Spark!”

Light burst from around him as if he were a crystal hit by the sun. It burned a horizontal gap in Shadow, whose mouth opened huge in silent agony.

“Stop!” Facilier cried.

Luxord didn't look at Facilier as he drew another card. “I cannot allow a heartless to harm you.”

“That's not a heartless! That's my familiar!”

Luxord stared at Facilier as if he'd grown a second head. “I didn't hear you summon anything.”

“I keep them around all the time. Xe must have thought you were doing something threatening and,” Facilier faltered under Luxord's stony stare, “please don't touch my leg.”

Luxord blinked. “Oh.” He pocketed his cards. “I was making a hot compress for your leg. How taxing is xe to keep summoned?”

“Oh...” He was. Helping. “Hot compress.” He was helping? “Because pain makes me irritated.” Luxord was helping him. “And not very taxing? Can you fix what you just did?”

“Interesting. And yes.” Luxord uncapped one of his small bottles and set the healing drink before Shadow, then unfolded one of the towels. “Permission to apply a hot compress?”

“You can. Just – tell me next time. Don't just – do that without saying something.”

“Oh. My apologies once more,” Luxord said, and half bowed to Facilier. “My employers expect me to go ahead and take action without asking if a problem is seen without bothering them. After all,” and his tone took a mocking lilt, “What am I, Luxord, your babysitter? Never mind you used to babysit me.”

Shadow stared at the potion bottle while Luxord gently wrapped Facilier's leg in a dry towel, then soaked a second one in the hot water, wrung it out and laid it over. The heat was almost hot enough to be painful – it was enough to melt away the agony in his leg.

“Too hot?” Luxord asks.

“Just right,” Facilier murmured.

The open bottle shot into the air as Shadow finally plucked it from the ground and upended it over xer wounds. Green potion oozed out, and Shadow smeared it over the open spot in their body. It closed up almost instantly.

Luxord settled into position beside the bed, looking like nothing more than a marionette with cut strings. It was unnerving; after a moment, Facilier spoke.

"You don't have to sit about here. There's plenty to see in town." Sitting and watching him couldn't be very amusing.

Except - Luxord seemed to hear another message, for his eyes widened and his lower lip twitched. Then, the moment passes, and he straightens. "I understand. I'm going to go downstairs and research locations."

And before another word could be said, he headed downstairs.

Facilier stared after him, then shook his head. Had he hurt the other man's feelings? Did it matter? He was too tired for this, and now that the pain in his leg had been replaced with relaxing heat he wanted nothing more than to sleep.


	15. Two of Swords

The first thing Luxord did was try to find the closet where brooms were kept.

That was a lie. The first thing Luxord actually did was stand in the middle of Facilier's store and make a pained noise into his hands. His chest hurt despite a lack of injury and his breath was coming out in choppy gasps. He stayed there until he felt his body settle down until the only sensation was the dull pounding in his veins that came after a battle.

It wasn't fair. This wasn't the kind of sensation he wanted to get from this. The plan was to leech off positive emotions from Facilier, not this – betrayed feeling. What had he done for Facilier to feel this and echo it to him?

So he stood until it left. Then he found the closet, found the brooms. Started sweeping.

The shop was a mess from the fighting. Books spilled, dirt and ash all over the floor. Pick up the books and shelve them. Sweep the ashes.

After half an hour of work, he heard the fuzzing of a magical being approaching. He looked up from the ashes; Facilier's shadow was on the wall, body canted as if to watch him.

_What are you doing? Facilier told you to go._

“I will,” Luxord said, “as soon as this is cleaned up.” He gestured around the shop. “It's difficult to do one's job in an environment wrecked by a battle, and even more so with a fresh, unhealable injury. The least I can do after that fiasco is make sure it doesn't make him suffer on his feet trying to clean up after it.

_But you're a customer. You're supposed to pay him to do things. You're not supposed to be helpful for free._

“Maintaining a positive relationship with co-workers is very important. If he takes up my offer, we're going to be working together full-time. And if not, I'll be asking him to do dangerous work – especially for someone with,” and he paused to choose words carefully, “no access to off-world combat training. I should make it worth his while to not refuse.”

The shadow cocked xir head and wiggled to the floor, tugged on his broom. Luxord was forced to bow over to keep it in his hands, and ended up locked eye to eye with the shadow's beady gold.

_So what you're saying is that you have to treat him very good and must keep him alive._

“That's the sum of it.” He folded his arms over the broom. “No offense, but this world is lacking in modern amenities and medicine that make life bearable on other worlds. I don't wish to patronize him, but I would like to be a patron, if you get my meaning.”

_That's probably patronizing, whatever that means, but we're not going to say no to money and help._

Luxord nodded. “My plans require your master's continuing health and goodwill. I do not stay to ignore his request but to remedy a possible offense before it can offend.”

The shadow swirled around Luxord's feet. _I think there has been a misunderstanding. He asked you to leave because he thought you'd get bored staying here. But since you don't want to leave, we can do things here._

“He did? I thought,” Luxord said, his shoulders relaxing, “he wanted me to leave after I had frightened him.”

_I think he's as afraid of you as you are of him._

“I don't have emotions.”

_Whatever. Is there anything you'd want to do outside?_

“No. I don't know the city well enough to find a casino, which would be the only thing worth trying to find.”

_Let me help you with chores. I can point out the things you don't see._

Luxord nodded. Gaining the trust of this summon would be useful; learning how xe was able to run around while xir summoner was asleep was even more important, because that was supposed to be impossible.

“I accept. Where do we begin?”

* * *

 

_I've never seen anyone react to a cockroach like that before._

“It fell on my head! What was I supposed to do?!”

_That's fine, but you still have to clean the scorch marks off the ceiling._

* * *

 

“What are these herbs?”

_Queen Anne's Lace._

“And this?”

_Chicory root._

“Is this sage?”

_It is._

“He must use these often. There's not much to dust here.”

_Just remember to put everything back where it was before. He has a system._

* * *

 

“Twenty minutes with the hot pad on, twenty minutes with it off. I have to take it off so his leg doesn't get burned,” Luxord explained as he approached the bed.

_I don't know if it can get burned as it is now._

“Better safe than sorry,” Luxord said, but Shadow beat him to Facilier. Xe pulled the hot pad off and put a dry towel over Facilier's leg before Luxord could get a good look at it.

_I'll take care of Facilier. You keep on cleaning._

Xe didn't trust him. Of course not. Luxord smiled bitterly and raised the duster to his forehead in a salute. “Understood.”

* * *

 

“I'm just saying that ovens in space can clean themselves and ovens here ought to do that too.”

_I'm scrubbing as hard as I can!_

“So am I!”

* * *

 

“The ice in this ice box is melting. The refrigeration has failed,” Luxord said. “That's a problem.”

_We don't have a refrigerator. It's just ice in a box._

“That seems inefficient. May I modify it so that it stays cold on it's own?”

 _You should get permission first._ Shadow looked to the bed. _I'll wake him._

“As you were,” Luxord said, and went to the kitchen to get some baking sheets to put the frozen foods inside the ice box on.

He heard Facilier yawn and stir, and Shadow had cajoled him off the bed and onto the rug splay-legged under a blanket by the time Luxord returned. “You're going to magic up my icebox?” Facilier asked, rubbing his eyes.

“I am. Consider it the back pay you're owed for the last two weeks,” Luxord said. “If you don't mind, that is.”

Facilier nodded and waved his hand. “Go ahead.” He was sleepy-eyed and loose, hair messy from sleep. Vulnerable.

Something ached in Luxord's chest as he unstacked the icebox onto the baking pans. How incredible, Luxord thought, that even now he could feel echoes of Facilier's heart inside him; how delightful, that the ringing of Facilier's heart could make noise where Luxord's was gone.

First he used a water spell to clean traces of blood and dirt from the inside of the box, then a fire spell to sterilize it. Then he took out a pale blue gem from his bracelet and set it on the bottom of the box, traced a line around it to show where he should put it in. He used an earth spell to carve out a half-circle indent and then placed the blue gem inside it, then pulled out and shook a silver paint pen.

“What is that?” Facilier asked. He touched the gem, then pulled back to stare at the frost on his fingertips.

“That's a Blizzara materia.” Luxord uncapped the pen and drew a circle around the gem. “A materia is formed – well, do you know fossils?”

“Ancient dead things whose bones turned into stone,” Facilier said. “Dinosaurs and mammoths.”

“Exactly! And ancient dead trees become liquid fire, and magic becomes materia. Crystallized under the pressure and time of millions of years and rock. Magic takes time and practice to master, but many people don't have either, so they use a materia to shortcut that – letting them cast a spell instantly through the power within it.” He drew long lines from the circle and up the sides of the icebox, then started writing kanji between them. “They can also be used as a power source; by putting this materia in your box and then lining it with silver, it will freeze everything inside it.”

“The pen draws in silver?” Facilier asked.

“It does. There's a mechanism that makes the silver come out like ink. Magic travels on silver easily, so it's one of the favored materials for magic items.” As he finished the detailing on one line, frost spread up the silver and crept onto the box around it.

“Amazing,” Facilier murmured. He crawled next to Luxord and ran his fingers over the finished line, leaving fingerprints on the silver. “It's so cold already.”

“This will take a while,” Luxord said. “Feel free to watch, but don't touch anything that isn't frozen yet. If you smear the silver, I'll have to restart the line.”

Facilier nodded gravely and watched in silence as Luxord worked, writing kanji in careful patterns, until:

“Where'd you learn this?”

“College,” Luxord said. He shifted so he could get a better view of a line. “I double majored in time magic and, ah...I could translate it as castle knowledge or dungeon mastery? To maintain a domain?”

“Explain it to me like I don't know what you're talking about,” Facilier said in a tone that said he didn't know what Luxord was talking about.

“Imagine a king and a kingdom,” Luxord said. “When the king is healthy, the kingdom's crops are fruitful and the weather is good. When the king is sick, there are terrible storms and the harvest is small. Why is this?”

Facilier chuckled. “Everyone's too busy sucking up to the king to do their jobs.”

Luxord grinned. “You would say that.” The cynic, the distrustful man. Very him. “But no. The land is naturally stormy and has poor soil. The king uses his dungeon mastery to chase away storms and make the crops come up well. By sacrificing his energy, he's able to strengthen the kingdom.”

“So that's why they don't revolt? He keeps the kingdom safe?”

“Something like that. I can do that on a smaller scale; learning how to make magic items is one of the first lessons, since it's also used to attune locations to respond to magic.”

“Can you explain what these symbols mean?”

“They're not symbols, they're words. There are three alphabets used on my world; this is kanji, the ancient script of the chrysanthemum kings....”

Luxord explained how the words were written, how kanji were used in magic and art but the Disnet phonetic alphabet was used in most books these days for ease of inter-world publication, the dwindling tradition of ink and brush, and how he'd memorized how to write and paint novels' worth of words as a young man.

Facilier listened; he drew closer to watch as Luxord drew, and his body was impossibly warm, like a furnace. Nobodies remained room temperature, but Facilier was the near boiling of a living body, and closer to him than anyone in the Organization ever drew.

Eventually Facilier dozed again; the battle must have taken a lot out of him, Luxord thought. The first dozen always did. He worked on, taking care not to nudge Facilier into waking.

It took an hour and a half for Luxord to finish. Once the silver dried, he and Shadow stacked the icebox with food and ice, and Luxord added the food he'd brought on top for good measure. He didn't have to inventory his own food containers; he'd just buy some new ones in Twilight Tow the next time he went on a supply run.

Facilier was criminally light for a man six inches taller than Luxord; he was easy to carry to bed. Luxord set up another hot compress for Facilier's leg, and mentally calculated how much embezzling he could pin on the supply disappearances in Castle Oblivion to buy a few barrels of rice. He couldn't have a potential new member of the Organization waste away before being recruited.

(Facilier would be no. 13. The thirteenth in the deck was Death: the changer, the transmuter, taking life to death and death to life. They required 13 for the ritual to return hearts to bodies, to take the empty shells of worlds and fill them with life again. And Facilier, who came from death to living, who would take the Organization's fortune and change it for the better -

An apt card and number for him.)

"You're such a sap, aren't you?" Facilier rasped, and opened one eye. "Or you've go too much time on your hands."

Luxord didn't pause as he applied the hot compress, and Facilier relaxed as heat closed around his leg. "Why's that?"

"You hired me, and yet you're the one running around doing me favors." He grinned without humor. “People don't do that without some kind of motive.”

Luxord shrugged. “It's part of my recruitment drive. I told you that before. Besides, I can't heal you with magic; the most logical thing to do to ensure you're healthy for our next appointment is to tend to you myself.” That was all. Humans on worlds like this, no magic, no heartless, no training, were so fragile. Luxord could kill any one of them as easily as blowing out a candle. Making sure that Facilier's flickering light stayed lit was, thus, doubly important, given the abundance of metaphorical winds.

If Facilier's heart radiated gratitude and begat a flurry of warmth inside Luxord's chest and behind his cheeks – well, the Organization didn't have to know about it and Facilier didn't either.

After all, he had a heart strong enough to echo emotion into a Nobody. If he realized how much Luxord would be willing to pay to feel again for six hours every week – if he realized his heart was as powerful as that of a thousand others joined in worship on a holy day -

Facilier's price would go up a thousandfold. And, inevitably, the Organization would find out and simply turn him into a heartless and lesser nobody, rather than develop him into one of the Thirteen, because Luxord would pay that price no matter what.

So better to prevent that future from happening at all.

“Then I have two more questions,” Facilier said, accepting his words without argument; Luxord watched his glittering eyes and decided Facilier had trapped them for later dissection.

“First, when will you return?”

“Next Sunday, I hope, but I don't know. My Organization is not terribly organized,” Luxord said.

“Second, your arms are bruised, but you have healing powers. Why?”

Luxord rolled up his sleeves to reveal the silvery blemishes on his arms. “These aren't bruises, per se. Cure spells destroy any non-organic detritus in a wound, which prevents infection and decreases scarring. However, organic materials are harder to get out, so spilled body fluids will often stay where they were spilled. That's why it's very important to see a proper healer if you take injuries to your core – organ damage can be healed, but stomach acid won't go back and lungs can't empty themselves of fluid.

“My Organization's leaders went to fight and capture a heartless the size of a building. It swiped at me at one point, and by raising my cards and arms to protect my core, I broke my arms here, here and here.” He points out the places one by one. “When I healed it, some of the blood was caught under my skin. My bone was healed misaligned here, so I had to have our team medic re-set it.” He pointed out a long blemish near his wrist. “This organic material wasn't contaminated, so it's under my skin – so it looks like a bruise, but it's not a bruise.”

Facilier touched the blemishes carefully; his fingers were warm and rough, and tingles rippled from where he touched. Luxord held very still as Facilier examined.

“You break your arms a lot?”

Luxord shrugged. “It's usually not so bad. I go out on heartless fighting missions at least once a week. I bring plenty of potions and Cure materia to compensate, but I can only hold so much, so there's usually a few scrapes and cuts at the end of the day.”

Facilier traced the dark lines of arteries at Luxord's wrist. “Does it hurt?”

“There is pain, yes, but pain is almost an emotion. Pain means I'm alive. It's a pain that takes the space where a heart was and makes it throb like it has returned for a moment – and with healing magic, it can be turned off when the use for it is over.” His fingers curled as Facilier tested them one by one.

A heaviness formed in the back of Luxord's throat; Facilier's poker face was good, but there was no mistaking the meaning of that soft-eyed glance.

“I daresay all this fighting sounds unpleasant, but it's not as bad as you think,” Luxord reassured him. “No heart may mean no joy, but there is no grief, no fear, no despair. Pain brings the clarity that I still live. I have survived five years of this, and I doubt the completion of our plan will take more than another five.”

“I don't know how to fight,” Facilier said. He exhaled against Luxord's wrist and sank back onto the bed. “I'm in no condition to be dealing with heartless, and I don't know magic.”

“Then I'll teach you,” Luxord said. “We've taught people how to function in a magical world before.” Facilier would be a much preferable student to Marluxia. Infinitely preferable. Visit Facilier once a week for magic lessons and heartless hunting, go out for dinner afterwards, bask in the flutters of happiness Facilier's heart made echo in his empty chest: it was a foolproof plan. The Superior wouldn't find holes in it.

“Would you pay the same rate?” Facilier asked.

“Naturally. I'm still paying you to show me the sights. We'll renegotiate if you desire, but next week.” Luxord took out the bag of gems that was Facilier's payment and set it on his bed. “You should rest.”

Facilier hmphed, then curled on his side. “One more thing. Did you kill the muggers?”

The – the who? Oh - the thieves. From three weeks ago. Yes, the bait. “No. I convinced one to kill the other, then used him as bait for your Friends. That's why they were agitated – I tried to capture one after it eviscerated the unlucky survivor.”

Despite how un-aggressive it was, it seemed to be the answer Facilier wanted. He grinned, then yawned. “Thought so.”

Luxord pulled a blanket up over Facilier's shoulder, feeling a smile spread on his face. Was this warm feeling contentment? As gentle and rosy as the setting sun outside Facilier's window.

The setting sun. The time!

“I have to go soon,” Luxord said.

“Then I have one more 'one more thing,'” Facilier said, snorting at his own self-deprecation. “Shadow! Go get the bruise balm!”

The shadow darted away, then came back holding the bruise balm by the shadow, which left the actual tin of the stuff floating in mid-air. Luxord grabbed the palm sized tin before it could fall.

“If it works on bruises, it should work on those spots,” Facilier said. “Put it on them and it'll make them less tender.”

Something in his chest fluttered. Luxord held the tin over where his heart should be – it would be impolite to give back such a gift. “Thank you. I'll use it well.”

And that was that. Luxord gathered his things as Facilier got comfortable in bed, unhooked the ladder to the rooftop, and left.


	16. Two of Pentacles

“Pills.”

Shadow carried a pill bottle to Facilier in bed, and he took one and swallowed it.

“Water.”

A full glass carried, then drunk.

“Chocolate.”

The icebox popped open, and Shadow carried over a chunk from Luxord's gift. Facilier let it melt in his mouth before he spoke again.

“He didn't say April Fools or anything, did he?”

Shadow shook xir head.

“Didn't think so. Which means magic and aliens are real and all that nonsense.” Facilier sighed. “I'm too tired for this right now. Close the shutters, will you?”

Shadow closed the window shutters and helped arrange blankets on Facilier, careful not to disturb his leg. Facilier sunk deeper onto his pillow and thought about how casually Luxord had pointed out bone breaks, one two three, as if they were no more than paper cuts.

“Let's make him more bruise balm tomorrow, once the shop's cleaned up. Dead men can't pay my rent, and he's too careless.”

Shadow canted xir head. _He already cleaned the shop. While you were sleeping. He even washed the floor and cleaned the oven._

A startled laugh. “Really? Then we've got to make sure he comes back alive. He's a golden goose far too precious to lose.” Facilier smiled up at Luxord's trap door, wiping his eyes. “Even if he doesn't know how to dodge.”

* * *

 

One of the benefits of being one of the Thirteen was that Luxord had his own bathroom, which meant that anyone coming to see him right now would have to get into his bedroom first, and he'd hear them in time to prevent them from seeing this.

This: Luxord on the floor with his arms bared and the tin of bruise balm to his nose as he sniffed it. Pine sap, floral notes, sage. His arms tingled where he'd applied it; every intake of breath filled his chest with the warmth he'd felt back at Facilier's house as the scent of the balm washed through him.

Worth it. Worth every gemstone, worth all the work, all for this.

To be able to bring a little something made with love, with heart, and let it fill the empty space in him for a few stolen heartbeats.


End file.
